


Armour and Flight

by Astray



Series: Armour and Flight AU [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of them - Freeform, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mentions of suicide attempt, Original Character(s), Paws is not exactly mine but I borrow him, Psychological Trauma, clones being left to die, forced prostitution by circumstances, reference to physical abuse, the act is never described
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:16:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9249881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astray/pseuds/Astray
Summary: "The rain had not stopped falling for days. Not that it mattered. It fell heavy around him - on his head and shoulders - blows to his battered body. What was pride? He could not remember. Cast away - not death - not reconditioning. Confined to a limbo he could not leave. Did not have the strength to. He glanced up - peering into the darkness that never left that part of Coruscant. He fancied he could see a bit of clearer sky. When was the last time he had seen the sky - sky unmarred by neon lights and smoke and a vertical horizon trapping him? After the unforgiving brightness he had been grown into - thrown into a place he did not fit in. So he had cut himself to fit. They had left him here. His brothers too. They had stuck together at first. Until they fell off the map. Dead. Drugged. Enslaved and sold. Just unnamed, disposable bodies that shared a face. He gritted his teeth and kept walking - ignoring the pain in his limbs, in his bones. The hunger that had been a companion for as long as he could recall. He was nameless, and nameless he endured."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Extra bit of information and warning: 
> 
> The character this story follows went through a whole Hell. Aside from a fight at the end of the text, I chose not to depict any of the abuse he went through. It did not occur to me to do so, and in retrospect, it would have felt gratuitous. I concentrated on the repercussions the abuse had on him in terms of psychological and physical trauma. 
> 
> However, the story itself is a long path towards recovery, which will hopefully go on after this.  
> Even so, please follow your own best judgement. I am available on tumblr (username: commander-squeak) if you have any specific questions you'd like answered before you proceed. 
> 
> [Sorry, it's a bit long, but I rarely post anything like this so, fair warning is in order.]

The rain had not stopped falling for days. Not that it mattered. It fell heavy around him - on his head and shoulders - blows to his battered body. What was pride? He could not remember. Cast away - not death - not reconditioning. Confined to a limbo he could not leave. Did not have the strength to. He glanced up - peering into the darkness that never left that part of Coruscant. He fancied he could see a bit of clearer sky. When was the last time he had seen the sky - sky unmarred by neon lights and smoke and a vertical horizon trapping him? After the unforgiving brightness he had been grown into - thrown into a place he did not fit in. So he had cut himself to fit. They had left him here. His brothers too. They had stuck together at first. Until they fell off the map. Dead. Drugged. Enslaved and sold. Just unnamed, disposable bodies that shared a face. He gritted his teeth and kept walking - ignoring the pain in his limbs, in his bones. The hunger that had been a companion for as long as he could recall.

He had no name. Glanced to the side. The lights casting a sickly shade to his face in the grimy glass pane. He would have smiled if he remembered how. Even if he felt no joy but the irony. Was it him who was sick, or the city, or the world itself? He had wanted to scream. He had. He had fought. For food, for shelter, for protection. Until he realized. It was all worthless. He was nothing. An amalgam of cells. A mind that refused to sleep. People calling him by a name that was not his. But he knew. Had known for a while. The first time he had not managed to shake them off. Been thrown to the floor. And amidst the excruciating pain and terror - this name. It was not him. It mattered not - the one they were calling was dead. And he wanted to be dead too.

He had not died. He had gotten up, eventually. Waited for his wounds to heal. He would never be clean again, even if he had the means to clean his skin. The damage was done, invisible but for the ones who were looking for it. Or so he thought. No one would have looked. No one would care. He was just the face of an old enemy to many. And so they took their revenge out on him - or so he heard. He heard rumours - of brothers going to bars in Coruscant. Probably too high up that he would never see them. And sure, he was curious. But it was nothing more than wishful thinking. He was nothing to them. They were nothing to them. For them death on the battlefield, for him a slow death in seedy streets. He knew some brothers like him sold themselves. Credits only helped so much - but it was potential food. And starving minds only had so much to lose.

He had steeled himself. Done the same - even if he let his mind close, his body on autopilot. Did not work every time. Apparently his original had made a lot of enemies. He shook himself. Time to move. He went to the southern part of the redlight district - less people around, and also a place where most hookers worked for themselves. Many of them were kind to him - although he did not know why they would be. Some of them had started out as refugees, as slaves that had earned freedom and yet never could get a ride out of that hell. And he had the face of the ones waging the war.

Although he was grateful - especially for Chi’da and Silais. They let him crash more often than not - even if he resented himself for accepting. He did what he could to help. He wished he could do more. But contact made him so sick that he waited the last moment to act. He still ran errands, ensured they had food - even if Chi’da kept telling him not to, that he was a kid. But he wanted to ask then - was he? He was no child. He was nothing, that was. He was greeted at the door by Silais - which meant Chi’da was working. They usually made sure there was always someone there. It was a small apartment in a rundown building, but well kept. The couch had been welcoming to him for a while - though it had taken a lot of coaxing to get him to sleep here instead of the floor.

“You’re late, kiddo.” It was not a reproach, he knew. Silais’s concerned look gave him pause. He did not want him or Chi’da to worry about him.

“Sorry. I lost track.” It was no lie. He did lose track of time. Unable to get out of his head. He shoved his hand in his right pocket - scooped up the credits he had gotten earlier. He hated touching them. He stepped inside, and laid them on the small table near the cooking area. He did not miss Silais observing him carefully. Checking if he was hurt. For once, it was not that bad. He retreated to the couch, curled up on it. He would rather not clean up now. He did not want to have to look at himself. Not yet.

“You don’t have to, kid.” Silais sighed, and put the credits in the box they kept them in. It was a common box - they could take from it for food and rent. For what was needed. He never took from it. He did not need anything, after all. He felt cold - as he often did. The adrenaline was wearing off. He looked up at Silais, and it could have been defiance if he had any fight left in him.

“You let me stay. Both of you. I won’t be a burden.”

Silais shook his head, looked like he was going to say something. It was a recurring argument. “You are no burden. And do more than your share.” He paused, before he added, more gently: “There was no need for you to do anything before next month. Just take it easy, okay?”

He nodded. He had come back with bruises and more than once with worse injuries. Broken bones mended easily with him - after all, he was still aging faster than the regular human. But he had the distinct impression that to other sentients, humans were considered weaker. Or maybe his companions felt like they had to nurture him. He never questioned them. All he knew was that Chi’da once had been a slave to one of the clubs owned by Hutts - as many Twi’leks on-world. And Silais had been the one buying her freedom. He had never asked them, but to him it looked like people who knew each other from before, one taken by the Hutts, the other to work in mines or something similar. But it was none of his business. He just hoped they would be able to leave that place one day.

“Kid? Spacing out?”

He shook himself, refocusing on Silais - and noticed Chi’da at his side. He looked down - he did not like being caught with his mind wandering like that. It did not seem right. He apologized, only to have Chi’da tell him it was fine, and was he hungry?

His stomach growled so loudly it made him want to hide. He tried his best not to eat too much - or at all if he could help it. He could not have them bear with that - he did not want them to have to bear with him eating as much as he knew he should. After all, he had to grow a bit more. Chi’da gave him a look - the look that meant that she knew but would not tell him. He was grateful for this.

“How about you get cleaned up before you eat?”

He nodded. She was right. Better end the day. Or night. Wakefulness. With better things. He went to the freshers, grabbing his ‘interior clothes’ as he went - bracing himself. He shed his clothes. For once, they were unscathed. He had not always been that lucky. He scoffed. Lucky. He stared back into the mirror. Still the same face. A fading bruise on his cheek - scrapes from a concrete wall. Handprints on his throat - he swallowed, looked away. The old fear rose in his throat. Not like he never faced a possible death. After all, it was not like his life was worth _kark_. He made a point of not looking at himself. His face and arms were bad enough. He stepped in the freshers - and like every time he did, he thought of water. Kamino. His batch.

He ground his teeth, tensing. He was not going to let that pain turn on him again. He suddenly felt like punching something. Maiming. Unbidden rage welled up in him - puttered out when he turned on the water and cold water fell on him - forcing the air out of his lungs in surprise. He fiddled with the setting - just warming the water enough that he would not catch his death, as Silais once put it. He washed himself carefully, checking by touch for any cuts or scrapes that might need treatment. He did not look at himself. Every time he found a new bruise, he did his best not to cry out. It felt like burning. He welcomed it - after all, rejects did not deserve comfort.

He did not linger, but instead scrubbed his skin as hard as he could - what did it matter if scabs bled again? What could it possibly matter when his mind was screaming and it felt like he had no soul left in that husk of a body? He rinsed the suds from his skin - from the corner of his eye, he could see the water turning faintly pink - his pulse beating under his raw skin. Looked at his hand when he reached out to turn off the water. He had grown still, he was sure of it. Accelerated aging. And yet not fast enough. Not fast enough for the field. Why did the Kaminoans not recondition them? Why not keeping them on Kamino at least? No, they had no visible fault. None that could be considered as a fault, that was. He clenched his teeth. Why would his mind not shut up? He had to resist the hurt to slam his fist into the tiles. He had done it once, breaking a knuckle - or three - and he had been forced to stay off the streets. He was not going to become a burden again just because he was too weak to deal with what his brain threw his way.

He stepped out of the shower, dried himself as fast as he could, and got dressed. It felt much better now, his body hidden from view. He could look at himself again. He stared at himself through the fog on the mirror. His hair was growing long. Chi’da kept telling him she liked it better that way. And he did not care himself, so he kept it like this. Made him look younger - a bit different from his original, from what he had seen of the man on old holos - images kept he had no idea why, of collectors who had taken an interest in him. After all, the man had been one of the most renowned bounty hunter.

A sliver of information at the back of his mind. _Jango Fett had been enslaved and had escaped_ . And then rose to the height from which he had fallen. But if Fett had managed it. Maybe _he_ could. He smiled - tried to, it was more of a grimace - shook his head. It was stupid. Why would he even bother entertaining the thought? He had no way out. He went out, making his way back to the main room where Chi’da was sitting, cross-legged on the couch. She was so different here than outside. Though he guessed it was the same for them all. Outside, they had no name, nothing but their looks. It pained him. He could understand that he was in that predicament. Because he had been made. Engineered. Canon-fodder. Expendable.

But them? They were actual people, who had been thrown into slavery - and even if both of them were now free, he could not help but wonder. Was it really freedom, even if they earned money while before they could not? He shook himself. Now was not the time. Chi’da tensed, as if she was getting ready to move - he recognized the impulse, and how she caught herself. She wanted to hug him, but never tried after that first time when he had frozen before shoving her away. At the time, he had been sure they would kick him back on the streets because of what he had done. But they had not.

Chi’da patted the couch next to her. Closeness was okay. “Come on, Silais agreed we could eat and watch a holo - if you’d like.”

He brightened a bit at this. He liked holos. They helped taking his mind off things. And Silais was usually adamant that they eat at that table, so it was always nice when he could be moved.

“Only because you brought nuna masala, no other reason.”

She scoffed, but her smile was contagious. “Yeah right. Don’t get used to that, Mister, because there might be more to come.”

He turned to her - just as Silais was spinning around, plates balances on his right hand and arm, cutlery in the other. “You got the job?”

Her grin broadened, and she nodded. He was so glad for her, he truly was. It was easy to feel happiness for others - never for himself, no - and Chi’da deserved it.

Silais handed him his plate and spoon, and went to sit on Chi’da’s other side. Only then did he speak up - after slinging an arm around her. “That’s the best news in a long time.”

“Yes. Longer commute, but really it could be worse. And the patrons are nice. Wild, but nice.”

Silais laughed. “So, more weird stories to come?”

“Already have a few. I mean, it’s 79’s, what would you expect?”

He almost dropped his plate. He knew she was looking for a new job, knew it was further up, but she had kept the name a secret. Apparently, Silais did not know either.

“Next thing we know and you’ll work at the surface.” Silais had spoken fondly, though he seemed a bit wistful. Like the surface was still an unattainable dream.

She swatted him on the arm. “Don’t be silly. Now, how about you boys pick a movie? No explosions, please, I have had too much noise.”

Soon, they were watching the movie - something he could not name, but it was rather fun. But best of all, he focused on them, as they traded jabs and jokes and occasionally spoke as if the actors could hear them. It filled the void - it shut the voice out - it wrapped around him like a safety blanket of sorts. It also helped him tasting the food. It usually did not taste of anything if he was alone with his thoughts. Here, he had something else to think about so he could pick the different textures and tastes that made up his food. It was warm, and spice, and melting - made him think of that time Silais had him try butter. It was a rarity for them, but he remembered that taste - soft. Cool. So unlike everything he had had before.

After the movie, he put away the dishes - insisting that he had to do his share, however insignificant. The couch could be unfolded, he knew that but he never did. He could not stand the openness of it. It did not feel safe. He had always slept in a tube - or cramped quarters - until he was marooned on Coruscant. Open spaces made him even more uneasy than the claustrophobia of confinement. He settled for the night after wishing Silais and Chi’da good night. There was only one room in the flat. In the first days after they took him in, they had offered to share their space if he needed - assuming that he was used to being surrounded and might find comfort in having other people in the room with him - if only to ward off the nightmares. Even after he got to trust them completely - and it had happened rather fast, with a certainty he could not explain - he never took them up on the offer.

He did not want to intrude. Did not want to bother them. And it was best to keep his nightmares and frights for himself. They had enough to deal with. And contact was something that made him sick, even if he knew full well that they would never hurt him. After all, they understood that more than he wanted them to. Because they were people. Not things. Slavery, and all the abuse that went with it, made him sick. They were people. He curled up to sleep, trying to stave off the wave to nausea that threatened to engulf him. He clutched the blanket tighter. Tomorrow was another day. But he would rather not think about that either.

Their routine changed with Chi’da’s new job. It was further up, but Silais did not want her to commute alone. The trip was long. He could understand Silais’s worry. After all, he had seen it often enough - people acted like Twi’leks, especially the women, were fair game. It angered him. And so, he offered to do the commute with her - after all, unlike Silais, he did not have regular job hours, so it was easier for him to. And he could fight - he chose not to protect himself, that was all. But he would defend the two people he had come to think of as friends. Even if they may not see it that way. It had taken a bit of persuasion to convince them that it did not bother him in the slightest - and they had agreed that he would wait out of sight for Chi’da to get into the club before he left. He did not want to be seen by anyone. Especially not in a place clones attended. And so, he was waiting for the lift with Chi’da, a scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face. He was not sure it was very useful, but it made him feel a bit less self-conscious. And he did not want to attract attention to them.

“Thank you for coming with me.”

He glanced back at Chi’da - he had to look up a bit when he had met her. Not anymore. And she was not exactly short. He tried a smile, and did not fail too badly. “Anything.” They spent the rest of the trip in companionable silence. When was the last time he had been up? Too long. The rain had not stopped, but it seemed less heavy the more you rose. Or maybe it was just himself imagining it. It could be. They got off the transport, and he followed Chi’da - she moved with ease through the crowd - but after all, it was her job. He had to be careful not to lose her amidst the endless flow of people. Spotting 79’s was not as hard as he would have thought - the place was fairly central - and he noticed that they could have gotten off closer. He told her so. Maybe it was just inattention?

“I know. But if you don’t want to be seen, it would be hard to do so if you land right in the middle.”

He stared. It was obvious. Of course. How dumb could he be? “Sorry, I didn’t think.”

She turned around - as if she had heard his thoughts too, her gaze suddenly sterner. Daring him to do it to her face. She softened quickly, and stepped a bit closer to him.

“I know it would be easier for me. But I enjoy your company, so I wasn’t going to trade it for a few paces.” She smiled brightly. “I have to run. But you stay safe on the return trip, okay?”

He nodded, before he told her to wait for him when she is done. “I don’t want Silais to maul me because I didn’t pick you up on time.”

“Don’t worry. He drilled me too.”

“Good luck at work then.”

She winked at him, made this mock military salute that she always did when she was off to work. And off she was, walking briskly to the side door - the staff door. He stayed for a while, even after he was sure she was inside and safe, and working. He felt a pang. He should be doing something, and not dawdling. It was hard to. A transport arrived, unleashing what looked to be at least two companies. Clones, just like him. Brothers. But they looked older. And even from that distance, he could see - the weird hair, the tattoos some had on their faces, the scars. He unwittingly clenched his fists at his sides. He had scars too. Except most of them could not be seen - except for the nastiest ones that could not heal. The one across his back - they had been thrown out of the transport when they had been left there. And he had not managed to catch himself. The training armour not resistant enough - breaking under him and digging into his back. Phantom pain shot through him. It had scarred badly, but he had been lucky. He had survived, had not broken his back.

One of the brothers turned sharply towards him - he froze. He could not have been spotted. His face was concealed. He could not look away. _Move and he’ll see you_. That brother was tall. Command, from the way he held himself. How no one crashed into him. But what held him were the eyes. That clone had a cybernetic eye in place of the right one. A long scar ran from his forehead to his cheek. Forbidding. He took a step backward as soon as the man turned back to talk to someone else. His heart was beating frantically in his chest, and it was all he could do not to take off at a run. It would be the surest way of being noticed. He could not afford that.

He made his way back to the transport platform from whence he came, blending into the crowd. He could not quite shake the feeling that this clone had seen him. Actually seen him - and knew who he was. He tried to quell the panic that threatened to engulf him. If he was found. Surely, he was supposed to be dead, and yet he was not. What if he was found? What if they took him? Chills broke along his spine, growing into shivers that did not let up until he was back to the flat. He had to think, do something. So he did what worked best - he cleaned up the place, even if it did not need much. Silais was still at work and said he would bring the food.

He kept at it until it was time for him to go and pick Chi’da up - even if Silais had tried to coax him into eating. He could not eat for now. He had to know if he had been spotted. The thought terrified him, and it took him a fair deal of talking it through in his head to get near 79’s. The bar had closed, no one was around. He waited until Chi’da came out and walked to him. She looked tired, but alright. Cheerful, almost. Which was a new one. And so, he made the resolution right there and then that what happened to him did not matter. He was not coming here for himself. He did it for a friend. To make sure she was fine. So it made whatever happened alright.

The trip was just as the first one had been. Quiet. He did not know how to broach the subject, and he did not want to do it in such a public space. So he waited for them to get back to the flat. Silais was asleep - working the day shift for a while, so they would be mostly crossing paths. He reheated the food while Chi’da was showering. Put everything on the table. And water. He expected her to be parched after running around so much. She came back, wrapped up in an extra blanket, and flopped on her chair. They had their own spot around that small table. They started eating in silence, and from the way she cast him furtive glances, he guessed she was waiting for him to speak.

“What are they like?” It was not the question he had wanted to ask. He had not thought it through. He opened his mouth to tell her not to bother, but she cut him short, her voice low - no use being loud at such an hour.

“Loud. And kinda bonkers. But they’re cool, for the most part.” She smiled, taking a bite from her vegetables. “Remind me of kids, in a way. Adult kids left on a playground.”

“You sure you’re a waitress?”

She chuckled. “Certain.” She seemed on the verge of adding something, but did not speak up again, tucking in with the ravenous appetite of someone who was in dire need of food. He offered her some bread. Pretending he did not want it, even if he was still a bit hungry. But she needed it more than he did. Fortunately, his stomach did not growl. He left the matter to rest.

The pattern of commuting with Chi’da fell into place fairly easily. He did not get caught anymore. He did not see the scarred officer except three more times. Guessed he was back on the field. No one else noticed him. After a while, others would come in. As no one seemed to pay attention to him, he got closer. Possibly much more than what was safe. No one noticed him. Chi’da did, of course, but she remarked on it in passing, only once. He had been honest in saying he was curious. After all, the clones that attended the place were his age, even if they did look older than him. It was a reminder of what he could not become - what no one let him become. Leaving him broken in a place that he had never since regarded as friendly. _Kriff,_ Coruscant was hostile to anyone who did not have the credits - or who was not, you know, high enough.

Looking at Chi’da’s profile, he saw the tiredness - the way her face was drawn in the harsh lights, even when she was smiling. It was there, right under her skin. The same weariness he had grown accustomed to. He felt responsible for it. For having her and Silais help him. He did not deserve it. He reached out - she was not looking at him - and lightly touched her arm. She did not move away - must have guessed it was him, because he had seen her wrench a few arms out of their sockets just for touching her. Although she had only done so when the threat was imminent - and himself was too far, or could not have helped one way or another. Emboldened, he got a bit closer. The transport was slowing down.

“Thank you.” His voice was barely audible, but the way she tilted her head showed she had heard.

“Nothing to thank me for, kid. You’re worth it, you know.” Of course, she would know about the issue he had with deserving things. He had told them often enough. He tightened his hold on her arm - just a squeeze, before letting go. It had been the first time he had initiated contact with someone else. It did not hurt. But Chi’da would not hurt him. He readjusted the scarf around his face - just in case he crossed path with people he had encountered. It was always a risk - and people were more aggressive when they saw he was still alive. He had no idea why. It had become a fact of his life. As much as the fact that rain was rarely cold, and rarely clear.

They walked back to the flat in silence, the routine still the same. Except this time they stopped to pick up some food. He had credits that he had kept on him - to avoid running to the tin. He bought the food, refusing any help. He could do that. It felt right. He took care to pick what Silais and Chi’da preferred, and true, it did not leave him with a lot of choice. But he made do. He placed the complete order and went to pay, as his companion lagged behind to chat with the owner. The owner was kind - and the food was good. He paid and waited to collect the bags. Carried them out, not letting Chi’da carry any of them. The owner and staff waved at them as they left, the gesture reciprocated - it made him feel lighter, even temporarily. It lifted him like his friends’ kindness did - when it did not come crashing down with guilt. He shook himself. They had plenty for food, and Silais might be still up - back to working the night shift, filling in for someone.    

Silais was there, and they wasted no time. Going through the ritual of getting cleaned up, then eating. Water supply was the one thing they made sure they could always afford. In that city, it was essential. The pollution was a real problem. He did not tell either of them that he had been on the streets more. Even if it tore him apart. Even if he had more troubles getting around. He put on a brave front when around them, allowing himself to break only when he was alone in the bathroom. He was trained to be a soldier after all. Pain was to be endured. And Silais still dragged him to the medic - there was a small clinic nearby that ran tests and offered treatment anonymously. It was always difficult for him to go, because of the necessary contact. But dead or sick, he was useless. So he went.

Still, what did it matter that he was sore, or that his ribs hurt if he breathed too deeply? They could not be broken, the bruising was mild. It was of no consequence. Just like everything else, a matter of keeping on breathing - keeping your heart beating. One day after the other. It had been no different on Kamino. Pain lurched in his chest. He was not alone, back then. He had thought all he would know would be a war for which he had been grown. Was warfare preferable to his situation? Maybe not to others. To him, probably. At least, if he had never gotten here, Silais and Chi’da would probably have been better off…

A soft knocking jerked him from his thoughts. He shook his head under the water, trying to rouse himself from the apathy that came with dark thoughts. Answered.

“Try not to drown yourself in there. The food will get cold.”

This got him moving. They were waiting on him. It could not work. And of course they did, but it was no excuse. While he was wallowing, they were waiting for him. How selfish. Again, the urge to hit something - or just cause himself some pain just to make up for the sudden guilt. He stopped short of hitting himself in the ribs - because he might break one or two, and because they were waiting. They should not have to wait on him, ever. He leapt out of the shower, barely took the time to dry himself, got dressed and into the main room. His hair was still dripping but he did not care. It was fine. And really, aside from a cold, what could he risk?

“Sorry for the wait.” He tried to smile, but could not, The words hacked out - air catching in his throat. Chi’da waved her hand while she was still chewing. But she spoke up right after, while Silais was pushing containers towards him, along with cutlery. There were more than he knew he had ordered.

“Didn’t want you to have to reheat your food. And you seemed a bit off-kilter.”

Great, now they were worrying. Silais spoke next: “Though you still had time to dry your hair.” As he was speaking, Chi’da rose and swiftly walked to the bathroom. He did not see what she was doing, but in moments he had a towel on his head, and hands rubbing his scalp to dry his hair.

“Chi’da!”

“Don’t argue with me, kid. Won’t have you getting sick on my watch if I can help it. Now, go ahead and eat.”

“Don’t think the kid can eat if you keep trying to get his head from his shoulders.”

He heard Chi’da huff behind him: “Like you’d know anything about hair?”

“Just saying.”

In fact, it did not take long for his hair to be dry enough to fluff out like gravity did not exist. And at least, he was not getting any more soaked. Chi’da put away the towel and went back to her dinner. He opened the first container, steam rising from it. These didn’t look cold to him, at all. He reached for the ones he knew where his, leaving the rest in the center of the table. He tucked in, doing his best not to eat too fast, but he was starving. He concentrated on his food, until he had reached the last of it - and he was still hungry, but that could not be helped. His companions were a lot less ravenous than he was, that was for sure. He eyed the closed containers, wondering - he knew these were not part of the order. What if there had been a mistake and it was another patron’s? He felt cold bloom in his limbs.

Chi’da pointed her fork at the containers. “These are yours too.”

“No, they aren’t. I know what I ordered.”

She smiled - like she knew something he did not. It put him on edge, even if he kept it to himself. Reminded him too much of the brothers he had lost and who would make jokes out of everything just to keep sane.

“They _are_ yours. You are hungry all the time, and the owner noticed that you took less food than usual. So he offered to add more for you.”

“But- why?”, he blurted out. It was not okay. No, he did not need charity, did not want it, and this food cost something to be made, and the ingredients, and- A hand above his wrist - not touching him, catching his attention.

“We go there very often. If it bugs you too much, you can ask him what you owe next time. But don’t freak out if he refuses, okay?”

“Silais’s right. And besides, you’re growing up. You need to eat.”

He felt the telltale prickling sensation in his nose and behind his eyes, heralding waterworks. But he could not help it. He just did not get it - why were they kind to him. He heard a chair move, and then Chi’da, asking gently if he wanted a hug. For some reason, it was the last straw, breaking the dam he had carefully placed around him. He had not sought contact until now - and even in his current state, he was still very unsure about it. When had touch not hurt him?

He nodded, his vision growing blurry, but he still saw her rise, taking a step towards him. Her arms open, non-threatening. He got up - nearly tripping on his own feet, and landed in her embrace. At first, he was not at ease, but her calm, the way she did not move to hold him - it reminded him… Tears ran down his face and he did not care, he curled his arms around her, like he remembered one of his _vod_ doing. He did not remember his name. Just that he had been the one he was the closest to. One of those who did not survive the jump.

Great sobs rattled his bones, teeth chattering from a cold that came from within, the exhaustion and pain taking their toll. Her hands, gentle, careful, on his shoulders. Then around his shoulders, her hold loose enough that he could break free. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. It was too much. Gratitude flooded through him, and this time, the darkness had not taken hold of him. He was safe. Chi’da would not hurt him. These two were the only people on Coruscant he knew would not hurt him.

They stayed like this for a while, until he stepped away slowly. He smiled, and even if it was a poor one, it was already that. They got back to their food, and it was true - he was hungry. He ate what turned out to be his food, but not before offering it to Chi’da and Silais. They each took a bite - and yes, he guessed that they did so only to show him they were not turning him down, to prevent him from feeling guilty. Hunger temporarily pushed it from his mind - and what if the food was growing cold? It was food, and it was still very good. He did not remember when was the last time he had felt full after a meal. It felt nice. To the point that the feeling lasted until he went to sleep.

As he settled to sleep, he could not help but wonder, not for the first time, how it felt. To have brothers with him. It had been so long he had forgotten. He could not remember names. He was grateful for Silais and Chi’da taking him in, and bothering with him in the first place. It was so much more than anything he could hope for. Loneliness crept upon him - unwanted, crippling. Every day he saw brothers - laughing, having a good time, making out… Like this was not always supposed to hurt. Himself, he did not like contact. The thought of it - it made him want to retch, heart in his throat. Choking on tears. Because he was tired of being alone and - maybe it would be best if he stopped existing, to stop feeling that pain - to stop hoping against all hope that he would find a place he could be. Somewhere he could belong.

In the light that filtered through the blinds, he looked at his hands. Empty. Shaking. He curled up as much as he could, wrapping his arms around himself. Willing his mind away from this place, away in a dreamless state. Make that pain stop. He could not sleep. He had to walk. He got up, dressed quickly, and grabbed one of the keys to the flat - he would not bother anyone because he locked himself out again. Before he went, he wrote a note - just so neither of them would worry at not seeing him. He would never understand why they worried, but he was not going to question them now.

The air outside was still heated - so far down, it rarely cooled. The night would lift soon. But again, it was not going to be noticed. Only when the day was at its peak would it be noticed that far. Living in a near-permanent night. Or rather, day and night crowds mingling into an unreconcilable mix. He wandered without looking where he was going - careful to avoid empty places. No one looked at him much. It was only after an hour or so that he realized that he was being followed. Had no idea since when. He stopped and leaned against the wall. Close to the redlit streets.

If he could not sleep, he might as well do something with it, right? The steps stopped. He looked up - and regretted immediately having waited. From the look of it, they were bounty hunters. Bounty hunters were always bad news for him - even when they paid. Because bounty hunters that came close to him were those with a grudge against Jango Fett. He wondered idly if someone would ever look for a clone like him, in that kind of situation because they actually _wanted_ Fett. The thought was odd, and he quashed it.

He squared his shoulders, his head held high - a defiance he faked well but was still an illusion. Fear trickling down his spine, even as he named the price. He asked for a lot from bounty hunters - to make up for treatment, and the time he would have to take off the streets, as was the case more often than not. Still not much, compared to others. But he was a clone, and as such, he was not even worth the genetic material used to grow him. The bounty hunters did pay. And so, he let himself fall into that mindless trance that had made it possible to survive up until then.

He returned after the peak of day, walking slowly, picking his way. His body was screaming and so was his mind. The credits weighed in his pocket. It was more than usual, and he had stopped on his way back for pastries for Silais and Chi’da. They would need that before they go to work. He dragged himself the rest of the way - ignoring everyone around him. His body kept moving, in spite of the pain, the urge to fall to the ground and hope it would swallow him. Hating himself, hating this situation - hating being a burden, hating the face he wore. It was not him these bounty hunters had wanted, after all. Was it ever? No. They called him by the same name. The name that was not his. And it made him ache - because of the way people had come to hate his original so much.

He shook his head - and stopped as soon as the movement made his vision swim. He was exhausted. Walked up the stairs - every step sending jolts up his spine. At least he was not bleeding, that he knew. He had learned - he could tell. Opened the door in silence. Saw no one. It was a relief. He did not want to speak, or even see them. He could not bear the pain, the worry on their faces. He put the money in the box, closed it. Put the food on the table. Put his note with the waste. Went to the bathroom after collecting his home clothes. Made a point of not looking at himself in the mirror - or down at his body - as he undressed. Stepped in the shower. Not bothering to adjust the temperature - the cold water hitting him so hard it winded him. He took a shuddering breath, then another. Forced himself to remain still even as the cold water made him want to jump away.

It was nothing. He had borne worst. He scrubbed his skin until it felt raw. Bruises forming - could feel it on his neck - skin tender under his fingers. Same for his wrists - and he was fairly sure his shoulder would bruise from when he was slammed against the wall. Scratches on his jaw. Pain blooming on his hips. He would not look - but he was sure the bruises would not fade easily. He cleaned himself as thoroughly as he could. Once. Twice… By the fourth time, his skin was chaffing, but he was almost positive he had managed to clean all remnants from his body.

He still felt off. Tainted. Broken. Cracked - millions of tiny cracks that settled into his skin, his bones, his muscles - a shattered man held together but he had no idea how. And if he cried, it made no difference as cold water washed away the soap from his body. He stepped out of the shower, dried himself - and maybe he was being too rough, but did he really deserve any comfort? A common whore was only there to be used and he was nothing if not that. Nothing like the brothers that were at 79’s. He went back to the couch, and curled up, disregarding his muscles and back protests. It was safer. Curled up was safe. He did not even notice sleep claiming him.

The next day was… weird. He woke up later than he expected he would. He awoke with a start, convinced he had missed Chi’da departure and Siliais would skin him alive for letting that happen. Except Chi’da was there, reading from her datapad at the table. The pastries were gone except two. He had brought four, he recalled. He had moved fast, which attracted her attention. He sat up quickly - and immediately cursed himself. It hurt.

“Kid?” Her concern was audible, as if seeing on her face was not enough. He resisted the urge to wince.

“I’m fine.” Tried to smiel, failing miserably. He got up, grabbed clothes, went to change. Always changing out of sight. Cleaned his face, his teeth. The scratches on his face were scarring already. His shirt covered his wrists. Hiding the visible traces of pain as if nothing had happened. Nothing happened. Going back out. Still two pastries on the plate. A glance at the time. They had a bit of time, but not much. He sat in his chair, and pushed the food towards her, making a questioning sound. He did not trust himself to form words yet.

“Take them, kid. You look like you could use the food.”

“Can’t eat.”

She frowned, put down her pad and looked at him. Observing - looking for injuries. His collar hid the ones on his neck, he had made sure of it. And yet… “Your jaw?”

He shook his head, slowly. “It’s fine. I just don’t think I could keep it down. And these are yours.”

“I’ve already eaten.” She sighed. “I’ll wrap them up and we take them for the trip, how does it sound? Maybe by the time we get to 79’s, you’d feel better to get some food.” She did exactly that, and he wanted to protest, but the words died in his throat. He dressed to go out, covered his face.

It took the trip to 79’s for his stomach to start growling. Chi’da gave him the package and he could not say no. He did not want to take it from her… Told her so. She took the other one, biting into it, and she smiled. It was okay, then. He could eat. So he lowered his scarf and wolfed down the pastry - sweet and soft - comforting, even if he did not want to think about it. He did not deserve this, did he? They got off the shuttle as he was licking his fingers clean - not realizing until it was too late, and apologizing for making a mess. Chi’da shook her head, assuring him it was okay, and he almost believed her. They walked in silence the rest of the way. Clones were already walking in. Some with armours still on. Grey markings. Some red. He was pretty sure Chi’da said something, and he nodded. His brain catching up - she was off to work.

“Have a good day, Chi’da.” He smiled this time, and the one she gave him was so bright, he had no idea how no one else seemed to notice. She went in. He waited. Rooted to the spot, staring at the flow of clones coming in. He saw one he had noticed before - he had slightly longer hair. His own had grown too much. Had yet to cut it. It took him a moment to realize two things. First, he was way too close. Second, he was being watched. He turned his head to the left, and saw him. The brother with the cybernetic eye. The commander.

He did not even think. He turned around and ran. Or tried to. He was not fast enough. His legs would not carry him far, he was too slow - and panic broke his coordination. He heard calls behind him. He heard steps coming closer. A shout for him to wait. He tried. Did not see the railing and ran into concrete and metal - thrown back, breathless, and pain flaring up his spine. He scrambled to his feet, fell again - he could not breathe. Hands on his shoulders - touch gentle - he twisted away until he was back to the wall. Curled up. Looking back at his attacker. It was the one with the longish hair. He was looking at him with something that resembled distress - like he had no idea what to do. Hands up in a non-threatening gesture. When he spoke, he spoke softly - like he was trying not to spook him.

“Easy, _vod_. I’m sorry I scared you. I won’t hurt you.” A pause. “I’m Comet.”

He recoiled at this. How many times had he heard these words? How often had it been lies? More steps, lighter steps he recognised as Chi’da’s. He glanced in the direction of the steps, but still with an eye on the clone in front of him - Comet. He focused on Chi’da - the commander was with her. She knelt at his side. Within reach.

“It’s okay, kiddo. They won’t hurt you, I promise.”

And he trusted her. Chi’da would not lie to him, he was certain of it. But then… “Why?”

Comet glanced at the other brothers, and the officer nodded. Only then did he speak again: “We noticed you, last time we were around. Also, you went with Chi’da, so we asked her. Wanted to talk to you.” A hesitation. “You’re on your own, right?”

The question made no sense compared to the rest - but he understood the meaning of it. So he nodded, albeit shakily. He heard a faint growl - what? He followed the sound. It was the officer who was making that sound, but he was not looking at him. He was staring in front of him, directing the aggression elsewhere. It stopped as suddenly as it started, and he crouched down.

“Sorry about that, _vod_. I’m Wolffe. 104th commander.”

He had heard the denomination before, around there. But also another name - Wolfpack.

“Will you-” His voice cracked, as the initial shock wore off, replaced by cold, clammy fear. “Will you send me back there?”

Wolffe frowned, so did Chi’da and Comet. “Send you back where?” asked Wolffe. His voice was deep, it echoed in his bones - it was strangely calming.

“Kamino. They-” He could not finish. Could not tell them, if he did they would kill him. “Don’t.” He was shaking, and for the first time since he last reached for Chi’da hand weeks ago, he reached for Wolffe, gripping his arm, panic and terror welling into him. “Don’t kill me! I’ll disappear, you won’t see me again. Or if you kill me, do it quick, please.” He could not hold on. It was too much, he could not go on like this. They were going to kill him. His vision was blurry, his chest heaving - the pain bursting in his heart and taking his voice. He crumpled forward, stopped only by arms wrapping around him. Strong. Not crushing. Not hurting. Hand in his hair - Chi’da?

“No one will kill you, _vod’ika_.” Wolffe’s voice. A rumble. It felt safe. The tears fell and he could not keep them in. Maybe he was going to die but he did not care because the pain was lifting. He was not alone anymore, even for a few more seconds. His only wish - to care for his friends - was all the words he could get out because his consciousness faded to black.   

When he came to, he was in a room with soft lights. Lying on a soft bed. Voices… He blinked, not quite trusting himself to move. Maybe he was dreaming. It took him a few seconds to adjust. He could see Chi’da in his peripheral vision, talking to the commander. Wolffe. A look around, slowly, carefully, showed other brothers. He recognised Comet. There were two others, one with odd silver hair and another with that peculiar two-stripes cut he had seen one of some of the brothers. He moved his arm - did not touch anything. The openness, the width made him recoil. Vulnerable. His movement did not go unnoticed, and in an instant, Chi’da was at his side, concern etched all over her features. Her hand hovered over his - not quite touching but he could feel warmth radiating from her. He closed the distance slowly - the touch grounding him in the moment, and it helped. The bed was too big. He-

“You’re good, kid. I got you.” Her hand curled around his. Soothing. It did not hurt. It did not make him want to scramble away. He curled up in a ball, still - feeling less exposed that way. He did not missed the concerned look Comet gave him. It was strange, to have someone he did not know showing concern. It was not what he was used to. He tried to nod, or speak - show her he heard - he could not. His voice was gone. If only she could talk more.

“Where?” He managed to get the word out, and it was not what he had meant to ask.

“One of the back room at 79’s. You were out cold, so they brought you there. Would have been too complicated to bring you back to the flat.” She spoke slowly, softly - it helped him register the words better. It made sense.

Chi’da stayed with him, talking to him but he could not quite follow - his mind was reeling - did it really happen? It was no dream. She offered him a cup - juice, she said. To help. He sat up, drinking it - it felt nice. His throat was so parched he coughed. When was the last time he had drunk? Before he went to sleep. Washing the dredge of- He froze. Not going to think about this. Chi’da’s hold tightening on his hand - attracting his attention - she was asking him what it was. But he could not tell her. After a while, Wolffe came to kneel besides them, addressing him directly. He could tell Wolffe was trying to appear non-threatening in doing so, as well as not staring at him directly. He was oddly thankful for it, even if he did not understand _why_ would anyone bother… Let alone someone in a position of command.

“From what Chi’da here told me, you got there a long time ago, right?”

He nodded, and inclined his head for Wolffe to go on.

“She said you’re alone - no other brother with you when you met.” A pause - he nodded again. He felt some sort of funny feeling in his stomach, in his chest. A tension of sorts, like electricity. He had some inkling as to what Wolffe was driving at, but it could not be. “Would you want to come with us? Not to fight, not yet. But you’re a brother… The general will be fine with it.” Wolffe frowned, apparently stumped. Until the silver-haired brother came to his side, kneeling as well - but far enough not to crowd him - careful.

“What Wolffe means is… we once lost everyone too. Got lucky to have each other. But it’s hard. Must’ve been harder still for you. We’d like to help, and have you stay with us, if you want.”

Wolffe nodded, and added: “You have time to think about it. We don’t take off before the end of next week, come here every so often. And if you’d rather not, it’s fine.” He offered a small smile to him - and for some reason, it made his heart ache. Because what the other brother said - it rang true. And maybe they understood. But probably not. He yet asked - how did they lose everyone. How could this happen?

And they told him - taking turns. Chi’da’s hold on his hand did not relent as their story unfolded. It tore him apart - looking at these men, and knowing - he understood the pain. Of thinking he would die. Of knowing everyone he knew - or close to it - were gone. Of being so sure no one would ever care - would look for him. Because he was not worth it, because he was-

“Expendable.” The word escaped him, before he thought it through. He stared at Wolffe - and was caught in. He saw it. He saw that old pain - he could feel it. He knew it so intimately it pained him too.

Wolffe nodded. “Yes, kiddo. Expendable. Our lives worth nothing, not even the genes we carry, if not on the field and dying while fighting.”

“They found you…”

“Because our general was with us,” Wolffe said, “because a Jedi commander was stubborn enough to look for our general. Had he been elsewhere, had she not been so stubborn… We would have died in silence as surely as all life eventually does.”

“It’s not fair!” He had shouted the words, and his voice cracked on the last word. He did not care about himself. But he hated it. Hated that it could happen to anyone else. It was not just, or acceptable. They deserved better.

“I know, _vod’ika_. But that’s how it was. We survived. You survived. We started over. You started over. And if you accept, we would make sure you are welcome with us.”

He could not help it, he burst into tears, the grief and pain clawing at his chest, and he hunched forward, colliding with Chi’da, who simply held him. Her free hand on his back. She was speaking, but he could not make out the words exactly, for the second time - he was so lost. Why would they want him, when no one would even care? Why would he find a place to be? He belonged nowhere, he-

“Kid, you’re worth it.” The words cutting through his haze. The same words Chi’da and Silais told him when he was down. They meant them, he was aware of that, even if it was hard to believe. He had no idea how long he stayed there - but he was faintly aware that the _vode_ , minus Comet, where a bit farther from him, standing close together. Fleeting touches that he read as reassuring ones. He glanced to his other side to see Comet sitting cross-legged on the far side of the bed. Too far to touch. He seemed on the verge of saying something, but remained silent as he kept his gaze on the other three.

He had heard Wolffe talk about Sinker and Boost - who had introduced themselves as they went through the story. No mention of Comet, which only meant that Comet had joined them later. Which also meant that maybe they really could take him with them. He squeezed his eyes shut. He could not accept, even if it was possible, he could not. It would not be fair for Silais and Chi’da. They took him in, took care of him even when he would not. Accepted him without having been given a single reason to. And they were stranded there unless they could afford to go back to their homeworld. Or somewhere else that was not grey and stifling and crowded and polluted. They deserved so much more and there was no way he left them here.

Someone came in - a man, from his voice - telling Chi’da she could go home if she wanted, that everything was taken care of, and hope your friend got better. He clung to her without really thinking about it.

“Think you can make the trip back, kiddo? You need to rest.”

He shook his head. “I passed out. I rested.”

A huff, and Wolffe’s voice from above, on the side: “Not the first time I heard it.”

“I did not pass out, I hit my head.” He glanced at the speaker - Sinker.

“You hit your head when you fell, _di’kut_ ,” Wolffe said, although he did so rather fondly.

It broke him - to bear witness to a companionship, a closeness he knew had existed but that he could barely remember. He was relieved that it existed, he honestly was. But it hurt - he never was given the chance to grow, to make it with his own brothers.

“Kid?” Chi’da’s voice so soft he could have missed it altogether.

“Okay.” He let her guide him to his feet, slowly so he could find his balance. As soon as he was stable, she let go of him. Comet had joined the others, and they were looking at him, somewhat solemn - before Wolffe smiled at him.

“I trust you’ll find us when you’re ready, kiddo. Right?”

He nodded, tried to smile - but his chest was still aching and he felt the corner of his mouth tremble. He would not cry, no. He was stronger than this, he really was, right? He had to be. So he followed Chi’da out - but not before thanking them - for taking the time, for staying there for explaining to him. And how could he tell them he was grateful to know that they understood, and how sorry he was that they went through that? It was not fair, it was not and… Something in the way Wolffe was looking at him - it felt like he knew what was on his mind. He stepped forward, gathering him in his arms - he froze, abject terror rising in him at the contact - and it abated when he realized that Wolffe was barely touching him - his hold easy to break.

“Whatever you choose, _vod’ika_. You’re welcome, at any time.”

But he heard the rest - that he did not need to be alone anymore. And so he did something he never did with people he had just met - he held onto Wolffe, briefly - the warmth, the security - all of it crashing into him and threatening to make him cry for good. Because it was everything he had hoped for without wanting to hope, or thinking he had a right to. He let go just as fast, but the feeling stayed with him - oddly comforting, and he did not want it to go. He may not deserve that, but he would hold onto it. This small spark carried him the whole trip back to the flat, and he was grateful for Chi’da not asking him anything. He was not sure he could speak.

The magnitude of what happened hit him later, when they had gotten home - Silais was still at work - and he was in the shower. It took him two tries, but he looked at himself in the mirror. Saw the bruises… It never ceased to surprise him how it did not hinder his breathing. Or maybe he had gotten used to it. He tried not to flinch, and failed. Stared at his face and not quite recognizing himself. He tried to find common points between him and Wolffe, but it was hard. He tried to focus on Comet instead - Comet was probably younger, even if marginally so. But he still seemed younger. Desperately younger and it rankled him. If his guess was correct, he would be around Wolffe’s age. But he… He gripped the sink so hard his hands started to hurt but he had no other way to express the frustration he was feeling. That face was the reason he had been cast out. That body was the cause. It was what made the cloners think he was unfit.

Without thinking, he reached back, and punched the side mirror as hard as he could - pain engulfing his hand, making it tremble - shards of glass in his skin, raking his knuckles - glass shattered and falling. The sound echoing in the silence of the room. He gripped the biggest shard he could get, ignoring the terrible pain in his hand, pointing the shard toward his face. He could not face it, look at it. He looked too young, he was going to get killed for something that was not his fault. No one could ever help him, no- The tip of the shard on his cheek bone. Contemplating. Maybe it would be better if he could not see. No more expectation. No more of seeing his face. No more seeing brothers. No more. Blessed darkness and…

He pressed the tip into his skin. Staring into his own eyes. His eyes… So old… And there it was, the connection he had tried to find. It was in his eyes, in the sunken stare, the void in them. An echo of the haunted look in Wolffe’s eyes as he had told him - _no one was going to look for us,_ vod’ika, _no one_. He dropped the glass. He could not do that. He could not. His legs gave out but it felt eerie like being wrapped in cotton, the awareness of the impending fall and the complete inability to do anything about it. He crumpled, and whiteness enfolded everything. He could not see anything, or hear anything. Just weightless - someone was holding him. He was being carried but he did not want to fight the white…

It receded, slowly… Chi’da’s face came into focus… She looked like she had been crying. Why was she crying? Did something happen to Silais? He tried to move - his hand was held… Sensation was returning, slower than sight. He could see Silais now - he seemed fine. So why was Chi’da looking so sad? Silais was applying something to the palm of his hand. The smell. Bacta.

“Don’t waste it.” His words raspy, coming out in a whisper.

Silais looked up, shook his head. “Not wasting it. You have deep cuts. The one on your face will be fine, but the ones on your hand will need more time.”

“It’s not worth it.”

“It is.” Silais’s had that air of authority that only came forward when in a situation that warrants it. It never allowed for discussion. “Bacta is all we have that would be effective, sort of stitches. And I’m not stitching your palm, not without putting you under. Which would demand painkillers we don’t have.” He had spoken softly, without any bite. It made sense, of course. And painkillers could be hard to find, as all sentients required different types of substances. He could not use the ones Silais ad Chi’da used - they had tried the first time, and his body went into shock. A trip to the clinic taught them that he was allergic to part of the formula and being in contact with it again might kill him.

He nodded, showing his acceptance of the explanation, and remained still until his hand was properly bandaged. “Thank you,” he whispered, not quite trusting his voice. Shame welled in his chest, threatening to spill forth. He was nothing but trouble for them. “I’m sorry.” He could not help it. “It doesn’t even cut it. I broke your mirror, and made a mess, and I shouldn’t even be there, right? I don’t even know… Why didn’t I die?”

He looked at them, the pain back to choke him and he could not stop the flow now - he could not breathe properly but every breath he took turned into more words - apologies to them, curses for himself, and what right did he have to be there and how come they haven’t thrown him out to fend for himself, he was not worth their help, and yes he had meant to die, more than once, but he could not let them like that without repaying them first, and now he broke their furniture and use their medical supplies when they need it more than he does and he should not even be there!

He curled in a ball, heaving breath after shuddering breath until he finally calmed himself enough to apologise for the outburst. He was exhausted. Physically and mentally drained. As though he had no idea where it all came from - and in a way, it was true. He had no idea he would one day explode and let everything out like he just did. He wanted to stay awake, to- He did not know what, but he could not sleep now… But he was slumping back on the couch, and he conked out, unable to fight the drowsiness that that washed over him.

He awoke to the sound of Silais and Chi’da speaking quietly. He did not catch the conversation, and part of him wanted to know what they were talking about. But eavesdropping was not high on his list, so he stretched and sat up. His head was pounding, his eyes felt swollen, dry. He needed water… He croaked a greeting, one that was answered by smiles - genuine ones. He did not get it. He got up, and slowly went to the sink, getting himself a glass to drink. One. Two. The third glass went down a bit more slowly. He walked to his chair and slumped into it, head in his hands for a moment, before he glanced at his friends.

“I’m sorry for the outburst.”

Silais shook his head, and offered him a small smile. “Don’t worry about that, kid. Been wondering how long you would keep it all bottled up.” At his surprised squawk, Silais added: “You’re pushing yourself a lot. It takes a lot of strength for you to make it this far. And I’m very proud of you.”

He wanted to cry again, but it was relief. The same type of relief that had flooded him when Wolffe has offered to take him in. And it hurt less. It did not hurt as much as it used to, as if a weight had been lifted from his chest.

“Still broke the mirror.”

“And you hurt yourself rather badly in doing so. So I’d say you didn’t get away scott free.”

He turned to Chi’da, not quite believing it. It was still something that he destroyed - tissues could be mended, but glass had to be replaced. She pushed the concern aside - it was just glass. His health and well-being were more important that glass. He did not quite have it in him to argue. He still had doubts about that, but he was too tired to start a fight or anything. He vowed to repay them in full - any way he could. His thoughts were derailed by Chi’da asking if he would think about Wolffe’s proposition.

“I don’t know,” he said, in all honesty. Part of him really wanted to believe it was possible - that he would be welcome, and have a place, and not be terminated on the spot. He told Chi’da as such. “But I’m scared too… It’s almost too good to be true. And I’d be leaving you, and I can’t make it up for everything you’ve done for me since I arrived.”

Chi’da nodded, as did Silais. She waited a bit before speaking again, gently: “The one way you could make it up to us is to choose what would make you happy. If it makes you happy to stay, stay. If it makes you happy to take Wolffe on his offer, do it.” A pause. “I talked with him a bit, while you were out cold. They’re good people, kid. And believe me, I got good at judging people.” She let out a faintly dejected laugh. “I think you can trust them. I did not tell them anything - just when I met you, and that you were living with us. But the young one of the bunch, he kept watch over you the whole time you were out like he was trying really hard not to reach out for you out of concern.”

“He didn’t…”

“I told him touch was not something you were comfortable with.”

And so Comet had listened to Chi’da. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Didn’t do much, though.”

They stayed like this for a moment, before Silais proclaimed that it was high-time that food be found, and guess what? Nuna masala was totally on the menu because good things had to happen sometimes! He admired Silais’s positivity, to be honest. And he did like nuna masala, a lot. So long it was not too spicy. He had tried the one Silais was having, one day, and he distinctly remembered thinking his mouth was on fire. They ate as soon as Silais got back, the food still steaming and almost too hot. It felt good, and hearty, and he had not quite expected to be able to eat at all. He did feel better than earlier, so there was that.

He did not recall what was the last thing he had eaten. Or when that was, how long had passed since he had accompanied Chi’da to work. They ate quietly, and soon, it was time for Silais to leave for work. But before he went, he offered him a one-armed hug - and he accepted it. It just felt right for some reason, but it also seemed like a good-bye. He did not like it. He did not want to leave them.

As he was walking with Chi’da on their way to 79’s, his mind kept running through his options - it was more like thoughts running into each other, but it still made some kind of sense. He had felt less alone when Comet started talking to him. Less alone when he had gathered the courage to embrace Wolffe. A sliver of something he knew, had forgotten and now was clawing at is consciousness, trying to reach the surface. And Wolffe was right - he had survived until then. And Silais was proud of him. And Chi’da supported him.

He did want to try and make up his mind, yet - like so many times he had felt brave enough, only to have thoughts quashing it down. Before they got off the shuttle, Chi’da bumped gently into him, attracting his attention. She smiled encouragingly, before stepping onto the platform and leading the way. As they got closer to 79’s, he spotted Comet, sitting on some non-descript crates. He was dressed in more formal greys, instead of the armour he had seen him in at first. Comet stayed on his crate, but he waved in greetings, a smile plastered on his face. It was contagious - he tried to smile, and did not completely succeed. But it was much better than most of his earlier attempts. Although he was getting the hang of it.

“Hi Chi’da! Pup!”

It took him a second to connect the nickname to himself. “Pup?”

Comet nodded, but he did not move yet. “Yes, pup. Unless you don’t like it. I started calling you that because I don’t know your name, so it stuck.”

“Sticking fast, Comet.” Chi’da gave him a half-smile, but she remained close to him.

“Long-lasting stickiness, too.” He waited for them to get closer. “You don’t have your scarf today.”

The question was not exactly one. More like a statement. He touched his neck to check - but why would he need to? He had actually forgot. “I left it. Didn’t think about it.” This was one of the longest sentences he had gotten out in his life that he could remember, aside from a few exceptions he could count on the fingers of one hand.

“We can find you one, if you’re cold.”

He shook his head. It was just to hide his face. People looked at him too much. Chi’da voice brought him back to the present.

“I have to work, kids. Be nice, and don’t go running around?”

“Sir, yes sir!” Comet had spoken with perfect form, but the context made it hilarious - sitting on a crate, talking to Chi’da, who was far from military as could be. He could not help the huff of laughter that bubbled in his chest. It did not go past Comet, who turned to beam at him.

“Dunno if you had any plans, but if you’d like, we could hang around a bit.”

“Why?” He blurted out, surprised. But he did not miss the way Comet immediately seemed to deflate. “Sorry, I- I just.” He sighed. “It’s a first for me. I’d like to. But I don’t see why you’d bother with me.” Immediately, he wanted to swallow the words back. He had no right to say anything like that to Comet. Or be outwardly self-deprecating. People were uncomfortable if you were too blue, he had learned. It was just so easy to forget that he barely just met Comet. And- “Forget it, sorry.” He would have went on, but was distracted by Comet dropping from the crate.

“Nothing to be sorry about, _vod’ika_. I’m sorry, I was probably too direct - didn’t mean to creep you out or something.” He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“It’s fine.” He tentatively put his right hand on Comet’s arm. Just an instant, he did not feel like he could let the touch linger. But he had his attention. “I never came around here, just to walk with Chi’da to work… So I don’t know much.”

Comet visibly brightened. “Is that a yes? Awesome! Well, there are a couple bars and all around there, and we could walk around to find some nice place? I think I saw what they call underground gardens on my way… Once I got lost. First time, missed the shuttle.” He stopped, gazing at him in horror. “I babbled. I’m so sorry! Wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I like that. And underground gardens… Never seen one.” He did not want to sound like he was pushing Comet, but it really sounded interesting. He did not remember when he last saw proper plants and greenery in a space more than three paces wide.

“Gardens it is! Come on!”

They walked together, close but not touching. Some people looked at them funny, and he heard some making comments - some quite nasty. Comet shrugged them off, and explained that to some people, the clones were responsible for the war, because it bore their name. And well, maybe they were right. But it did not really matter, so long they kept their distance. It was easy to listen to Comet talk - he sounded so lively, it was like hearing Silais and Chi’da when they spoke in their own language. It was a nice sound. Soothing.

Comet did not reach for him, except once, to prevent him from colliding with a droid - he had been too busy checking the skyline - it was dark but he could make out the edge of the buildings - and the cooler air from above that fell on them. Finding the gardens proved to be more of a challenge. In fact, they found them when they actually got lost. It was a wide space, carved into what looked like rock. The ceiling was very high, high enough for trees to grow. Light was much warmer, softer than the neon lights from the street. Once they had passed the doors, it was like another world. Everything was different. The sounds - he could hear water running, and the voices were muffled by the plants.

He looked around, having lost his voice for a moment, before he turned to Comet, who looked as surprised as he felt.

“Thank you, Comet. It’s… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Me neither, _vod’ika_ , me neither. Never in that form, at least. And I’ve been to many places. Not everywhere, though.”

They resumed their walk in silence, just bumping shoulders when they actually wanted to show something to the other. He could not quite understand how far the gardens went. There were different areas, with different climates, different plants. He completely lost track of time, breathing in that air that felt so clean and light. He never thought he would actually associate these words with Coruscant - or Kamino, for that matter. It was unlike anything he had ever been in contact with - and he understood that people would enjoy coming here. They made it to an area that had a pond, the water oddly clear, and fed by a thin steady stream. He flopped on the ground, followed by Comet, and they sat there for a moment in companionable silence, before Comet broke it. He spoke very softly, as if he was giving him the choice to ignore the interruption.

“I never thought water could ever be so soothing.”

“Kamino’s seas…” He remembered that they never stopped rolling and raging. He heard Comet hum, and it prompted him to ask - were all the seas like that?

“Not that I’ve seen, not really. But it’s rarely… quiet? And we never had much time to take a breather, so maybe there are days when they are, but I couldn’t tell you. This is nice, though.”

“Like, you’re no longer here… You’re elsewhere. A safe place, a… I don’t even remember the word if I ever heard it.”

“A haven?” Comet offered, quietly.

He nodded. “That’s it. Nothing exists beyond it.” Comet agreed, and let himself fall back in the grass. It was not very deep, but cushiony. He did the same, staring up at the trees. There were not many flowers here - just tall trees that made the light green, softening all the edges. Making him feel more at peace than he ever had been. They remained like that for… He had no idea how long. But eventually, Comet’s commlink went off. It was Wolffe, asking Comet to ‘return the pup to Chi’da because her shift just ended’. It was amusing to see Comet trying to gain more time, even if in the end it did not change much.

The walk back seemed much quicker, and it was odd to look at the city from the inside of the gardens. Like, from light and colourful to dark, bleak - like the air itself was tainted. They got hit by a waft of hot air that smelt like a mix of crowds, exhausts of all kinds, and the odd grilled foods. He recoiled from it - and collided with Comet, who had stopped right behind him. Someone shouted something at them but he did not know the language. From the way Comet shouted back - in Mando’a - some rather crude insults, it was clear that it had been along the same lines.

“Come on, pup. Let’s get you to your friend before I get arrested from breaking skulls against the ground.”

He turned to Comet, the way he had said it - low, more like a growl than anything - and the underlying anger. He did not move right away, fight or flight reflex catching him in the middle of it. It was like Comet was a different person. But apparently, Comet was paying attention to him - instead of eyeballing everyone that came across from them, because when he spoke again, his voice was much softer.

“Sorry about that, _vod’ika_ . I just… have no patience with _chakaar_ like that.”

He suspected there was something more to it but he did not press the matter. If Comet wanted to talk about it, he was pretty sure he would do so in his own time. It did not take much time to find their way back to 79’s - Chi’da was outside, chatting with Wolffe. Sinker and Boost were nowhere in sight. As soon as they were within earshot, Comet called Wolffe:

“You tell me not to lose our _vod’ika_ and _you_ manage to lose too. What gives, Commander?”

“I didn’t lose them-”

“We couldn’t pry them from the couch they were on.” Chi’da grinned at him. “Where did you go, kids?”

“The gardens. Comet showed me.” And he launched on a tale of how great the gardens were. He usually did not talk much, if at all, but the gardens had been the best thing he had seen, and he had to share with her. He barely registered Comet telling Wolffe that, nope, he did not want to know what Sinker and Boost were up to, thank you. Once he was finished, the fact that he must have been speaking for several minutes on end caught up with him, and there he was, apologising profusely for babbling.

“It’s fine, kid, don’t apologize. It’s good to hear you had a good time.”

“Rare thing, heh?” He could not help the self-deprecating huff that came up with that. It was true. There was never much of anything that had made him feel… light? He whirled on Comet - and almost lost his balance. “Thank you so much for bearing with me. I’m sorry I didn’t thank you before. You probably would have rather been having a good time here with the others, instead of hanging around with me.”

Comet stared back, mouth hanging open in the textbook picture of ‘flabbergasted’. He reached out for him, and stopped just before touching him. He still closed the distance, this time laying a hand on his forearm - he looked up from where he was staring at the ground.

“I asked you, _vod’ika_. And would do it again. I enjoyed spending time with you, alright? I know what 79’s is like, and really a bit of peace and quiet in good company was a great change.” He smiled brightly at him. “If anything, I should be the one thanking you for bearing with my terrible sense of directions in town.”

Wolffe audible chortled at that. “Don’t tell me you actually got lost.”

“We did. It was not like I planned to, though. And we found the place, and managed to get back.” Comet was not exactly defensive, but it sounded like a conversation they had already had at some point.

Chi’da turned to him: “You did enjoy yourself, right?”

“Sure did!”

Wolffe joined the conversation: “Like I said, we will be there for a few more days. In the meantime, you’re welcome to hang around with us, here or any place you’d like to see. After all, we mostly come to unwind, and alcohol is not the only thing that- _Comet_!”

“S’ry-” Comet was wheezing, laughing loudly, “for serious-” He could not quite get a grip on himself.

“Boost definitely ruined your education.”

“Not just my education, and I love you too.” Comet simply crooned at Wolffe, who was fighting a smile - and failed.

“Like I said, if you’d like to spend time with us, or one of us, in the meantime, to see if you are comfortable around us, feel free to ask.”

The offer was not exactly new but it touched him. It touched him that Wolffe gave him the occasion to ‘try’ being around them - and not just asking him to make the jump into the unknown. It had been so long since he had _vode_ around that it might as well be the unknown. He glanced at Comet, and asked him if he would mind going back to the gardens - and others could join too, if they would like. But he really liked that place.

“I’ll have to bring you and Silais too, once I memorised how to get there. It’s not clear yet…”

Chi’da gave him a smile, and nodded. “We’ll find a moment, don’t worry. Maybe the day after tomorrow?”

They planned to meet the next day in front of 79’s, and Comet and Wolffe at least would go with him. Maybe Boost and Sinker if they got up in time - hangover tends to make them slower. And he did not miss the somewhat evil glee in Wolffe’s expression when he said so. Right before they left, as it was getting late, he dashed to Comet, hugging him tight - “thank you” - before letting go almost immediately and rushing back to Chi’da, who was already on her way to the transport. She noticed, surely, but did not remark on it, for which he was grateful. He did not have a rational explanation as to why he did it. Just like when he had done so with Wolffe the other time, it had felt right. And it made him realize that even if he despised touched, especially touch imposed on him. Wolffe and Comet, and Chi’da and Silais. They were alright. They let him come and go. There was no threat. And it made him feel marginally better, in fact.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like talking when they got back to the flat - Silais was already cooking something - he had no idea what, hoping it was soup or something. Spices could be smelled. Chi’da checked on him, and he left them to their privacy. He went to the bathroom, even if he did not feel as grimy as he normally did. The bruises on his body were still too dark. They took longer and longer to fade. He showered, doing his best to ignore all these marks as he did so.He had a good time today, and he was not going to let it go to waste.Not now. Not when Comet had expressly told him he had enjoyed that time spent together. Not when Wolffe offered to go with them the next day. Not when Chi’da had looked at him like she was really proud - although he had no idea why. He got ready, not wanting to question anything in this particular moment. He passed Chi’da on his way out and went to the kitchen area to pick up plates and cutlery for their meal. A glance at the pot made his stomach growl. It was soup. Balancing his plates in one hand, he bumped his forehead against Silais’s shoulder.

“Thank you.”

He felt Silais move, probably to look at him. “You’re welcome, kid. I take it there will be no leftovers, heh?” He did not need to look at Silais to hear his smile, and he offered a small one of his own when he stepped back.

“Not really? But only if that’s okay. Did you plan on having leftovers?” The old anxiety at taking more than his share raised its ugly head and he was having troubles to keep it at bay.

“No leftovers planned. At all. It’s cooked anyway - so we can eat as soon as Chi’da is back.”

Dinner was mostly uneventful, as they ate in silence. He wanted to tell Silais about the gardens too, but he had already told Chi’da and he did not want to bother her with it. He had not planned on Silais asking him directly.

“Chi’da told me you went to one of the underground gardens. How was it?”

“It was great, really. But I really don’t want to bore you with that.”

Silais leaned forward, his elbows propped on the table, chin on his hands. It was the posture he took when listening. “I want to hear it, if that’s okay for you? I don’t recall ever seeing one, except the small ones that can be found on that level. She said there was water?”

“Yes! There were some streams, and even a pond. The pond was so… quiet? Even the stream that fed it made barely any noise, and everything was green. And bright, and soft…” And he went on for a while, answering Silais’s questions, as well as Chi’da’s, and promising he would show them the day after tomorrow, if that was okay. “Because I’m not sure my words do it any justice.”

“I’m pretty sure you did well. And I’d love to, yes. Though we might have to go during the day, as I’m still working the nights.”

Chi’da frowned. “Don’t you have the night off?”

“I start working days again after that. So I’ll have the night off, yes. But I’ll be working on the one before, that’s why I said, during the day. And you work nights too.”

“I could ask to swap with someone else to get the late shift. It’s not a big deal.”

They made the last arrangements. It made him happy that they accepted - it would have been selfish to keep that to himself. They even watched a short holo afterwards - and Silais had managed to find ice-cream too. It was one of the rare treats they could afford, so it made them all the more enjoyable. When time came to go to bed, he did so without apprehension. He was looking forward to the next day. He would see Comet and Wolffe again. Maybe Boost and Sinker too. It was a bit odd - he wanted to see them, even if he never really felt that way up until now. Maybe it was because they were brothers? He could not quite describe that feeling - yearning, a sense of belonging, safety, everything rolled into one or something else altogether. He settled in his nest of blankets, curling in on himself. And in his sleepy mind, it almost felt like someone else was holding him. Safe, at peace, and warm.

The next day had been even better than he could have anticipated, had he tried. In fact, he was so excited to go to the gardens again - although he tried not to show it too much - that he almost marched Chi’da out of the door, much to her amusement. He did not particularly mind. It was not mockery, and seeing her smile was one of the few things that he treasured. They were at 79’s earlier than expected, and he had to tell Chi’da she could just go in and take her time - he was not going anywhere. She did not listen - he could see her in the doorway - she went in only when Wolffe and the others came into view. She waved at them briefly and slipped inside. He tried not to lose his nerves, or look too eager - he was really looking forward to it. But already having them around made him feel so much better. At home.

“We were told there was greenery on this level?” Boost grinned at him, and he could tell he wanted to get closer but did not reach out. He had no idea what Wolffe or Comet told them.

“I was not hallucinating, _di’kut._ Unlike some, I was sober.” There was no bite in Comet’s tone, even as he lightly punched Boost in the shoulder.

Wolffe came closer. “Ready?”

He nodded - he was not sure he would be able to curb the near shout that threatened to come out. And so they went, following Comet. He caught up with Comet after a few paces, and tentatively reached for him. For some reason, the walk to the gardens, in the low-light - he was not at ease, and being with Comet helped. He was relieved when his _vod_ \- no idea when he really started thinking about him like that, it just felt natural - wrapped an arm around his shoulders, falling in step with him.

“Thank you.” He kept his tone low - but he actually needed to thank Comet anyway.

“All good, Pup. I’m glad you’re still willing to bear with us.”

He huffed softly. “More like the other way around.” It was true, after all. He was not interesting, anyway. And perhaps they were just humouring him and-

“Hey, _vod’ika_. You think to much.”

“Still, I-” He tried to explain how he felt like he was pressuring them into accepting because they felt bad for him or something similar. Comet was having none of it, apparently, because he stopped a few meters from the gardens’ entrance.

“Wolffe will be able to confirm this but… we all have a stubborn streak a mile wide. If we didn’t want to, we would have told you. It’s not pity, _vod’ika._ ” Comet suddenly hugged him, and he froze, before melting in the embrace. It was safe. “I just want to spend time with you, for yourself. Because you _are_ good company.”

“Still no kidnapping, Comet.” That was Wolffe, who sounded much closer than he had been. He felt a hand in his hair - the touch soothing, and so unlike what he allowed. He relaxed further, as Comet tightened his hold, stroking his back.

“You okay, _vod’ika_?”

He nodded against Comet’s shoulder, before he took a step backward. Comet and Wolffe immediately let go of him. “Sorry about that.”

“Apologies accepted, although I fail to see why.” Wolffe smiled, and even if it was a rather small one, it was sincere. It made him feel warmth spreading through him. Comforting.

Boost came to Wolffe’s side as Sinker went to Comet’s - and ruffled his hair, in spite of his protest. Sinker’s argument being that this was what you got when you have long hair, and well, the pup should not be the only one with messy hair! Wolffe had to actually tell them to quiet down - after all, the gardens were a place of quiet in the midst of the blaring sounds of city life. So they went in, after Comet resumed holding him close to his side. He offered no explanation but it was fine.

Once inside, Boost was actually struck dumb, which was a rather entertaining sight. Although he was pretty sure Boost made his reaction more dramatic - he looked like a fish out of water, while gesturing at the trees and vast expanse of greenery. Sinker was the one to voice his surprise first.

“That’s just… amazing.”

Wolffe nodded: “I honestly did not expect anything that big…”

Comet chortled and was visibly biting his cheeks. Whatever the reason, the other three had to understand because soon, all except Wolffe were in various states of hilarity.

“You three are the worst and I don’t even know why I bother anymore.” Wolffe was shaking his head - but he caught him smiling.

“You love us?” Was all that Sinker said, looking as deadpan as could be, like one would comment on the weather.

“I do and lucky me that emotions cannot be rationalized, else I’d be in trouble justifying it.”

“So mean. You break my heart!” Sinker grinned widely after that, and soon turned to him. “Comet talked about a pond, but I don’t think he can talk right now. Care to show us, _vod’ika_?”

He nodded, and proceeded to show them around - while dragging Comet, who had yet to start breathing again normally. It seemed like it was getting slightly hysterical, so he did him best to try and distract Comet, not noticing immediately that the other _vode_ were trailing behind them. They found the pond, blessedly unoccupied, and by that time, Comet was back to normal. They settled much in the same place as he had with Comet the day before.

After a while, he grew bold, and dipped his hand in the water - there were no signs saying you could not. The water felt incredible, cool but soothing, wrapping around his hand. He realized he never actually touched water so calm in his whole life. Running was one thing but this was different. He saw Comet doing the same, and grinning. Comet then threw water at Wolffe - though Sinker got a few of it. He had not thought it would end up in a grapple for their lives - rolling around and trying to escape. Comet managed to break free and use him as a shield.

It was interesting to see that no one seemed to know what to do - after all, they did not know each other all that well. That was, until Comet taunted Wolffe about being scared of pups. That sealed the deal, apparently. Wolffe lunged at them, sending them sprawling on the grass, and he tried to get away, only to feel a strong arm curl around his waist, bringing him against Wolffe’s chest, just as Comet was. They ended up on their backs, the two of them on top of Wolffe, who had relinquished his hold a bit, and growled that he did not sign up to babysit misbehaved kids, and could you just please nap like normal people? Comet immediately twisted around to curl against Wolffe’s side with a ‘yessir.’ Wolffe was barely holding him, that was true. Obviously giving him a way out. But he felt better like this. Safe. And Wolffe’s calm breathing was very soothing. He thus imitated Comet, curling up at Wolffe’s side, his head on his shoulder.

He had noticed falling asleep until he woke up to being still pressed against Wolffe’s chest, Comet’s hand on his wrist. And someone against his back, an arm loosely draped on his waist. He turned his head to find Boost, fast asleep. A heavier sigh from Wolffe attracted his attention. Wolffe was awake, and looking at him - like he was cared for, and wanted, and… he buried his head in Wolffe’s shoulder, not wanting to think. He had to be imagining things. He would not cry. He felt Wolffe move, and for a moment, he was afraid that Wolffe would disengage from him. But instead, he felt fingers brush his hair, gently.

“You alright, _vod’ika_?” It was barely a whisper, not to disturb the others, but he heard Wolffe alright. He nodded, afraid to look at him and break down completely.

“If it’s too much, you can get up, _vod’ika_. Boost sleeps like a lothcat.”

“Please, no.” He had not meant to sound so desperate. But he felt safe, and it was nice. For the first time, there was a touch that did not disgust him, made him choke, or want to die. “I feel safe, don’t leave me.”

He felt Wolffe tense, but he did not expect the growl - a loud rumbling that started in his chest and sounded truly terrifying. Except Wolffe was still smoothing his hair, and he was not looking at him but up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know who they are, or what they did to you. And you don’t have to tell me anything. But if I hope they get shoved down a Sarlacc, because if I find them, I’ll destroy them all.”

He was taken aback by the level of aggression Wolffe was displaying - but it was protective. Boost tightened his hold on him, clearly awake, and Comet and Sinker were looking at him.

“You’re not getting hurt like that again, _vod’ika_ ,” said Boost, “you’re pack.”

“They’re right, Pup.”

“But I’m… you don’t even know me.”

Comet shook his head. “You’re like us. And they left you here to fend for yourself. Left you alone. No _vod_ should ever be alone. You’re our _vod’ika_. And besides, I already planned on kidnapping you, so there’s that.”

“Comet.” Wolffe let out a long-suffering sigh that earned him some laughter anyway. He smiled to.

“To be honest, I would not mind.”

Wolffe rose to look at him and almost sent them all rolling backward. “You mean it?” He looked baffled, which was rather hilarious - Wolffe was an intimidating man, with a great presence, so it was rather hysterical to see him so nonplussed.

“I do. I mean… Maybe I didn’t think it through but... “ He hesitated, and sat up to give himself some composure. “It’d be a leap of faith for me, I guess. But I feel like,” he swallowed, trying to keep calm and not freak out, “you make me feel like there is a place for me. And true, I would hate that you feel forced to carry it out and take me with you.” He did not quite know where to go from here. He just could not help but feel that rush of affection towards them, and perhaps a bit more for Comet and Wollfe because he had talked to them more.

“There is a place for you with us, Pup.” That was Sinker, who had not until now, but he was looking at him with a serious air. “And well… we’re here to catch you after the leap of faith, if that help.”

Comet pushed Sinker away - hand on his face as he did. “Who are you and what did you do to Sinker?”

“I mean it!”

“Cheesy old man.”

He could not help it, he laughed. It felt good - like, actually feeling like laughing, and being happy. He was convinced they meant what they said - he did not think they would lie to him on that count. Even if he sobered up, thinking about what Wolffe had said, about destroying those who had hurt him. He hugged Wolffe tightly, without giving any reason for doing so - and soon they all ended up in a pile. They were getting comfortable when Wolffe tried to shove them away, calling them out on being heavy and really, it was getting a bit hot in here, please, let him breathe.

They spent the rest of their time like this, not really talking, just lying around. He moved a few times, ending up half on top of Boost and Sinker, who decided that he should definitely get framed by them - and Comet getting on top of him as a result. He quite liked this whole piling together method. He did not even start feeling claustrophobic like he normally would. Just warm, and comfortable - swapping or rolling out only when he felt a bit too stuffy. He was not going to lie - he felt the safest when around Wolffe, or better yet, with Wolffe holding him from behind. He could feel that rumbling growl that felt like a purr that Wolffe made he had no idea how. But it felt very nice, and he definitely did not want to move.

They had to go, eventually, not to keep Chi’da waiting, but it was actually without the sense of loss he could have experimented. And on the way, they stopped at a corner caff shop and Wolffe insisted they got something. He had tried to protest - he had credits to pay for this, and really, please it was not necessary. He surrendered at the end, because Wolffe pointed out that they did not need to purchase their own food or pay bills - perks of being in the army - although he had said it like you would canon-fodder. They picked out the kind of drinks they wanted - and he let Comet pick for him - he rarely ever drank caff, as it made him somewhat jittery - and it was bitter. He was relieved he had let Comet choose - it was sweet, and soft, and yes, he could taste the caff, but none of the bitterness. He thanked them, not quite sure what to do with himself, and Comet settled that by wrapping his arm around him again. He could get used to that.

They found Chi’da near the entrance, and she greeted them cheerfully, asking them how it went.

“It was great. We did not visit everything though… We napped.”

“You did?” She sounded surprised, but pleasantly so. It helped him not feeling uneasy at the question. But taking naps was probably a bit weird anyway.

“We did. Did not plan on it, but these two,” Wolffe gestured towards him and Comet, “crashed on us, so there was not many options left. Slept soundly for about two hours…”

“And more later. Guess we all needed the rest.”

Chi’da smiled, and yawned. “Good thing you rested. Though you missed Fox - saw some of the 104th and asked where you could be.”

“Fox looked for me?” Wolffe looked surprised, and pensive.

“Said he had something for you but that could wait.” She grinned. “And that you owed him three shots ‘of the blue stuff’ as you all call it.”

“You gave him the shots.”

“I did, and put it on a tab for you.”

Wolffe groaned. “I don’t even want to know what this madman has put in his head.”

He felt Comet shaking before he noticed the laughter, that turned into an explosive bark.

“Comet, are you high or something?”

“I’m fine!” But still he kept laughing, clinging to him to avoid falling over and it was contagious because soon, he was laughing too. He had no idea why, he just could not even breathe and every time one of them calmed down, the other would burst out laughing again. They could not stop, even when he could feel the ache in his ribs, his abs killing him, and the lack of air. They eventually managed to go back to normal, even if it had been a struggle to get there.

“Shall we go back, kid?”

He nodded, and went to each of his _vode._ _His_ vode. To thank them, and offering them a hug. Noticing how careful Sinker was, how Boost ruffled his hair, how Comet squished him to his chest, how Wolffe ran his hands up and down his back in a soothing gesture. All of them gentle and caring, he could not believe it. But it was all over their expressions, and he felt it. It felt right. To be with them. It felt odd, to leave - more so than the day before. But they went.

When they got back home, and Silais was not there yet. Chi’da told him to shower while she went to pick some food. So he did. They still had soup, but bread was always good. The caff had warmed him all over, and it was still warm when they had met Chi’da. How he had managed not to spill it all during his laughing fit had been a small miracle. But it had also allowed to him to offer some to Chi’da - and he took away the lid, just in case. She had said she liked it, even if it was a bit too sweet for her taste. But he was still happy that she had accepted to try. It was only when he undressed for the shower that he noticed something in his pocket.

It was a commlink, with a piece of flimsi attached to it that read: _“Felt like it was right for you to have one. My frequency is already saved on it, ready to call. See you tomorrow, Pup!”_ The signature was a miniature of the wolf’s head. The whole thing was written in Mando’a, a clear hand. He had no idea he would remember it so well, but apparently, languages would stick around. He placed the commlink and the flimsi on the shelf to make sure no water would get on it. He did not know why Wolffe would do that, but at the same time, he understood gut feelings. So he vowed to keep this commlink with him at all times. He showered quickly, and even if the water was barely tepid, he stayed a while longer under the spray. He felt much better than he had in a very long time - refreshed. He was glad Comet had seen him, even if he was ashamed of having been so scared of them at first. Objectively, he knew he had reasons to be wary or even scared of strangers. But they were brothers. _They called him_ vod’ika _\- they told him they’d like him to stay_. The sense of belonging blooming again.

When he got out, they were both back, and Silais took his place in the bathroom - he looked like he got run over by something. He asked Chi’da.

“Well, he thought he would try something to heat the plates faster and from what he told me, it backfired epically and ta-dah, soot all over.”

“He’s fine, though?” It sounded dangerous.

She shrugged. “He might be coughing soot for a few days but he’s fine.” It sounded like she was going to add something but thought better of it.

Not wishing to pry, he concentrated himself on the food. The soup was being heated again, and a delicious spicy smell wafted from the takeout boxes. It was still early when the three of them were squeaky clean and ready to eat - and Chi’da said it was movie time - they had time for two, and there was this two-parts thing she really wanted to watch. Although he was concentrating on his food and did not exactly follow the intrigue, even after he was done eating, because he fell into a doze.

He had not realized he had fallen asleep until he felt someone rearrange him on the couch, and tucked him in. He cracked an eye open to see it was Chi’da, who then smoothed his hair from his face, whispering that he could go back to sleep. Which he immediately did, without even noticing.

He woke up earlier than he usually did, to the soft voices of Silais and Chi’da nearby. He yawned, stretched, and sat up, looking at them rather blearily. It took him a few tries to be able to focus correctly, but as soon as he did, the world righted itself and stopped swinging from right to left. Or was it left to right?

“Slept well, kid?” asked Silais - Chi’da was busy inhaling her food.

He nodded. “Did too. What about you two?”

“Well enough. Waking up early is never easy.”

He dragged himself to the table, and it took a first full cup of caff to feel awake. He did not remember feeling so sluggish upon waking up. Maybe it was because he slept better? He had no idea. They ate in silence, until it dawned on him he had not told them about wanting to go with Wolffe. Not that he wanted to now - he had no idea how they would react. He could guess they would not take it badly, but he was not certain altogether, so he decided to postpone it until they were on neutral grounds.

As soon as they were ready, they left. The plan was to go to the gardens and visit some more, and then, they would leave Chi’da at 79’s, Silais would go to work, and he would be going around a bit. He had no idea how he would occupy his time. He would see Wolffe and the others for a moment - but later at night, to give him time to rest. They would meet in front of 79’s and if he remembered correctly, breakfast had been mentioned. Or something. He checked his pocket for the commlink. It was there, the metal cool in his hand, its weight reassuring.

The gardens were different by day - the contrast was less stark, but the sensation of breathing in clean air was always astonishing at first. He was proud to say he had not gotten lost in getting them there - and he led them around the place. At first at least, then he stepped back, a silent way of telling them that they were the leading party then. There was a grove he had not seen the first time - it was deeper in the gardens, and the sounds were even more muted. It felt nice. He also noticed fountains here and there - meant for people to drink from. Fresh water - it felt otherworldly, just like the water in the pond. They walked for a long while before settling down, again near the pond. It calmed him. He explained that it was there he had spent most of yesterday with his _vode_. It helped him to gather his courage and tell them.

“I know it’s sudden and all but… you know Wolffe offered that I go with them?” When they both nodded, he continued: “I would like to. I… I know it’s not fair to you, and if you think it’s best that I stay, I will. But… I’ve been a burden for you for so long, and there… I feel like I belong? I know it’s weird, but I really do. So yeah, if you’re okay with that…”

He had not expected them to reply or anything. Actually, he was not even certain he expected anything. At least, he had not expected Chi’da to draw him in a one-armed hug, or Silais to lay a hand on his shoulder - a clear sign of comfort.

“Of course you can go, you silly. I want you to be happy, and get away from that hellhole.” Chi’da hiccuped, and he had to look at her to see she was crying - but smiling at the same time. And he would be damned if that did not make him want to tear up.

“She’s right, kid. You deserve this, to be with people who care-”

“But you care!” He cried out, unable to stop himself. He stared into Silais’s eyes, pleading.

“We do, kid. But they, I think they understand better than we could, even after all that time in your company.” Chi’da was sniffling a bit, and he did the next best thing he could think of - he hugged her, as tightly was he could.

“Sure, we’re going to miss you,” Silais added, while rubbing his hand in slow circles on his upper back, the gesture soothing. “We’re going to miss you, but we have each other. And we’re not going to forget.”

“We won’t.” Came Chi’da’s muffled voice. “And before you argue, you owe us nothing, and you were never a burden. And I’m sorry we could not help you more.”

He was crying now, and he could not even care. It was too much for him. “You did. So much. Even if you don’t know. You-”, he swallowed thickly, “you took me in, cared for me. Treated me, fed me. And I was nothing. Just a reject, not even a person. I was nothing, left to die there in complete silence. I was alone, I lost all my brothers. You were the first who treated me like I was _someone and not an object._ ” He could not stop talking, trying to make them understand just how much he owed them - he owed them his life. Because he knew. He knew that he would have ended up dead had it not been for them. When his last _vod_ died - right before his eyes, when he was left for dead himself. He had known - he would let himself die. He would not fight the flow that had sent him crashing onto duracrete. He lost his voice then, the memories surging back - thick as tar, clogging his lungs, his bloodstream, his eyes, his ears - deaf - blind - silent.

How long did he stay like that? He had not kept track. But he could hear Silais telling him that there was no way they would have treated him otherwise. He was a living soul, of course he deserved to be cared for as such. And Chi’da was the one holding him, and he felt a hand in his hair, soothing and it helped him calm down. Even if he missed Wolffe’s rumbling voice - and the way it felt when Wolffe was holding him. He took a deep breath, and moved back to sit up.

“Thank you.” It was all he could get out, his voice hoarse, and his throat feeling parched.

“Just promise us to take care of yourself, and eat full meals?” Chi’da was smiling, even if her cheeks were a bit darker - a blush that showed she had cried too, along with the slight puffiness around her eyes.

“I will.” He promised it to them, and to himself. He was not going to starve himself anymore. And he was going to take care of himself as he could. A new start, in short.

“Good.” She ruffled his hair gently, and almost immediately retreated.

“I think we’ll have to get you to work soon, Chi’da.”

“Sure do.”

They stretched, got up - he was feeling slightly stiff - no idea how long he stayed like he had, but his spine was clearly hating him. He heard a pop when he rolled his shoulders.

“So young and already creaky.” Chi’da booped his forehead, and he accepted the gesture in good humour. He also felt much lighter now.

“You sure it’s okay if I go with them?” He asked again once they got out, making their way back to 79’s.

“More than okay. And I understand if you don’t want to ever see that city ever again,” Silais started.

“But if you want, you’re more than welcome to visit,” Chi’da finished. “Also, call, or write, okay? I want news, and to know all the places you’ll see!”

“I will. I promise.” He was going to keep that promise, along with the rest. He swore it. He was going to do all that he can to make it possible. And he had no doubt that Wolffe would not begrudge him that.

“So that’s settled. If you want, after you come back to 79’s, you can stay with them?”

“But what about you?”

“They are not leaving until the end of the week, it leaves us with a few more days. If you want to come back with me after, I’m all for it. Depends on what you are comfortable with.”

He nodded, saying he would think about it. He would have to ask Wolffe - and Comet, and Boost, and Sinker. There were probably rules, and he did not want to bother them. Better ask directly anyway.

They were right on time for Chi’da, and Silais rushed to catch a transport to his own workplace. He heard his comm, and checked - it was Wolffe, telling him they would get at 79’s around one in the morning. It was eleven. He had time to quickly to back to the flat, pack some of his things, and buy food for Chi’da and Silais for when they came back from work, in case he stayed with his _vode_. His brothers. The word felt like… coming home. He took the first shuttle he could. Anticipation put a spring in his steps.

It was not until that he was halfway through, the red lights casting misleading shadows on walls, that he heard them. Coming from behind him. He had grown accustomed to the threats. He could tell when someone was coming onto him. And he could not lead them to the flat. He took a side street, refusing to panic. He was faster, he was practically sure of it. He knew the places. They followed. The light was bad, no longer red but a sickly yellow that barely lit anything. It suited him just fine. When he heard them again, they were much closer. He walked faster, on a parallel street. He had not expected someone to crash into him from above, sending him against the opposite wall.

“Running somewhere, Fett?”

He straightened, staring at the ones who had followed him. He recognized the beskar’gam. The symbol was also one he had seen a few times on holos. _Deathwatch._ But the symbol was worn, and it looked like it had been scratched. So former Deathwatch. One of them, the one that tackled him, he recognized as a bounty hunter. So, a pack of hunters. He stared at them, acting with a confidence he was not quite feeling. He did not think, pressing the call button on his commlink - it was in his pocket. Hopefully, Wolffe will hear this.

“You got the wrong man. Jango Fett died on Geonosis.” And yes, his original had claimed one of them as his son. But there had been no news about him, and he was not going to attract attention to the kid. How old was he anyway? His train of thoughts was broken when one of them laughed - an unpleasant bark.

“We know. Doesn’t matter, though. You’re just as good as him, no? Though your kind usually travels in packs.”

He got ready, without changing his stance. He made sure to have his weight evenly placed on his feet. So when the first one lunged, he quickly pivoted on his right foot, immediately punching that man in the temple. They were stupid enough not to wear their helmets. Their loss. After that, everything quickened - he did not have enough overtures, the _beskar’gam_ covering major points.

However, he managed to land a kick to the back of the knee of one, sending him on the ground, and he did not think - he jammed his elbow into his skull as hard as he could, before gripping his neck and smashed his head on the ground. The loud, sickening crack was satisfying, and it gave him a surge of energy. Or it would have if an arm was not hooked around his neck. He tried to kick back, and he managed - the hold slacked a bit, but not enough to get free. Damn armour. He heard them - one screaming at another to hold him. The arm was replaced by a hand crushing his windpipe. And the voice, sickeningly close, it made him want to throw up.

“You might fight back, but you know… We would have gone easy on your. Just play a bit.” The hold tightened, and he desperately thrashed against the arm binding his arms to his body. “But now, you killed one of our mates. Another is out. So you’re going to die. But first…” The sounds. Shut the sounds out, shut them out, don’t listen don’t- “We’re having our fun.”

The sounds were drowned, all he heard was his blood. And he had failed. He had failed his _vode_ for the second time. He had failed them. He was not strong enough. He was going to die, and Wolffe would never find him. Just another speck, and what did it matter. He screamed - all the grief and rage and helplessness and pain - and it emptied his lungs and the blackness was falling in front of his eyes - he could not breathe but not even the terror that was ringing through him could make him move.

When he came to, he… he was not dead. He tried to leap away. Someone was holding him. He had to- He tried to scramble away, pushing from the person holding him. He breathed, but it was ragged and not enough air to-

“Pup? It’s us. It’s me, Wolffe.” And he knew the voice. It was true. Real. Or he was dying and he was seeing and hearing things for the last time? He cracked an eye open, his own face aching, and he tried to look at the source of the sound. His neck was hurting him. Breathing was painful. He saw him. Recognized Wolffe. Where? He tried to look around, but it was too hard. Wolffe tightened his hold on him.

Comet crouched next to them. On the floor. A ship. Moving. “Hey Pup.” Comet looked like he was in pain. Did anyone hurt Comet?

“We’re taking you back with us to our barracks. You’re safe now.”

He could not be. He was dead, or dreaming. He laid his head back against Wolffe’s chest. Heart his heartbeat. Steady. And that purring sound. It was safe. Wolffe was here. His _vode_ found him. He did not have the strength to reach out. He could not even fight the tears that fell. He had no idea why. If those tears were falling for all the ones he had lost and left behind. He could not tell. Exhaustion claimed him.

Next time he awoke, he was lying on a bunk, and Wolffe and Comet were with him. He had no idea how long he had been out. Comet immediately tightened his grip on him for an instant before he propped his head on his arm to look at him properly.

“Do you need anything, _vod’ika_?”

“Wa-” His throat was killing him, it felt like he had scratched it raw. “Water.”

Comet immediately rose to find some and it left him cold. He shuffled closer to Wolffe but his whole body hurt. Wolffe moved, stretched, and rose up to look at him, concern etched on his face. He did not move when Wolffe reached for his cheek. His hand was warm, his touch careful. So careful it threatened to make him tear up again. His heart was aching. Aching from that longing, that relief of having been found.

Comet returned with a glass of water - and a straw. Where he found it, he had no idea.

“Maybe it’s best if you sit up, if you can. You stayed out for hours, after all.”

He tried to do as asked but it was too hard. He could not force his muscles to obey him, exhaustion still sunken deep in his marrow.

“Is it okay if I help you, _vod’ika_?”

He nodded, thankful that Wolffe asked. He let Wolffe hold him, gathering him in his arms until he was sitting with his back to Wolffe’s chest, his legs between Wolffe’s. Held and secure. Comet held the cup for him to drink, and he was too tired to even be embarrassed. The water was cool and it felt wonderful on his parched tongue and throat. Like a desert coming back to life after the rain, as he had seen once on a holo Chi’da showed him. He took too much, and immediately started to cough. Comet took the cup away, and Wolffe soothed him until his fit passed. He was still thirsty but his next sips were much more careful. His limbs felt heavy, even if he was a bit more awake. He was comfortable like this. Did not want to move.

“Want something to eat, or not really?”

He shook his head. He did not feel like eating anything. Just stay there. But seeing how Wolffe shifted behind him, maybe he was not going back to sleep just now.

“Something wrong?” He did not address anyone in particular. But Comet seemed expectant.

“When you feel up to it, we’ll get you to the medic so he can check you up.” He tensed on instinct. Fear trickled down his back. “When we brought you back, he scanned you for any broken bone or hemorrhage - only life-threatening things. But he did not want to do a full check when you were still unconscious, and I understand that. So we decided to wait for you to wake up.”

It was… unheard of. They waited. They did not want to. His eyes were prickling, and his throat tightened.

“Hey,” Comet said, as he came to sit in front of them, close enough to touch, “it’s okay. We kept your in your clothes, too. All was done with the scanner. And Fang kept the touching to a minimum. Wolffe was the one who handled you.”

“Thank you.” His voice was little more than a croak. He had not idea how to tell them what it meant for him that they actually thought about that.

“You’re welcome, _vod’ika_.”

“You came for me.”

“Yes,” came Wolffe’s deep voice from behind him. A slight rumble he could feel against his back.

“You heard me.”

“We got to you as fast as we could.”

“Did they- was I-”

Wolffe growled now, and even he could tell there was rage in the sound, in the way Wolffe tightened his hold on him, protectively.

Comet was the one to answer, carefully laying a hand on his wrist. He focused on Comet’s hand. Saw the chaffed knuckles, the bruises. “They were dropping you to the ground when we got there. You still were fully dressed when we took you back.”

It was not a yes, or a no. He tried to think. It could not have taken that long. Try to think. The pain he felt was in his neck, his ribs, his back, his arms… His ankle, when he tried to move his leg. The right now. That was all. Maybe…

“Want to see Fang now? And after that we get you cleaned up, changed, and we let you rest.”

He nodded, and let them guide him - up and out of the door. His ankle was hurting but he could walk. He had worse. However, whatever he could have expected to find in the medbay… was not what he found in the medbay. A _vod_ with incredibly detailed facial tattoos rushed to them the instant they came in.

“I left our _vod’ika_ with you but it wasn’t to go on a trek with an injured ankle, you complete _di’kut_!”

“Fang…”

“I don’t care, Wolffe. The kid needs to be taken care of, not walked around like that!” He was speaking in hushed tones, hissing the last part. He would have missed the whole conversation had he not been standing with Wolffe. Up close, he noticed that the tattoos were in fact a skull. His. In black ink. He was not prepared for the _vod_ to turn to him, and step back.

“Sorry about that, _vod’ika_. If I don’t yell at them when they come to the medbay, they start thinking I’m sick.” He grinned, and it was very strange to see him smile. Not really scary. Maybe a bit unsettling. But the eyes looking at him from the inked sockets were kind. “I’m Fang, one of the 104th medic. I’m the one who checked you yesterday for injuries.”

He was grateful that Fang was speaking. He had no idea what to say. The only times he had seen medics, or medical droids, had been at the clinic on Coruscant. And usually, they did not talk much. Just asked a few questions, about allergies and all - and treated him - and sent him home. Fang seemed to pick up on it, because he moved back a bit more, so that he could have a look at the medbay. It reminded him of Kamino, but it was just the lights. For the rest, it felt less… less scary. There were two examination tables, and two bunks behind a folded screen. It smelled like disinfectant but it was not that unpleasant. He focused again on Fang, who gave him a small smile.

“Ready for a check-up, _vod’ika_?”

He nodded. “I’m not quite sure I am but… I have to, right?”

Fang’s smile faltered, and then he looked like the medic - the man who was working. “To be honest with you, I would have preferred giving you more time to recover. But I don’t want to miss anything. And maybe you’d prefer put that behind you?”

He was right. The more he stayed like this, the more he would think. He could not do that.

“Shouldn’t I shower first?”

“If I was certain you were not at risk, probably. But hey, I’m a war medic. I’ve had men wheeled in my medbay covered in grime, slime, what have you. Believe me, all’s good.” He gestured him to one of the tables, asking him to sit, please. He gathered some supplies. And turned to look at Comet and Wolffe, who were still standing there, focused on what was going on.

“ _Vod’ika_ , is it okay if they leave? Or would you rather have them stay here?”

“I…” He thought for a moment. He could not ask that of them. And he was not sure he wanted them to see. It was bad enough that Fang was going to see. His breathing came in short gasps. He tried to think and could not and he had to answer, but he had no idea how to answer. Who, where. A hand on his wrist. Comet. He looked back at him, tried to focus.

“Pup, you hear me?”

He nodded, the move shaky and it felt like he was cold all over.

Comet got on the table, shuffling until he was behind him. He could feel Comet’s chest rise and fall. “Breathe with me, _vod’ika_ . Just that. In… and out…” He tried, it was hard. It took him ten - or twelve? - breaths for him to calm down. He brought his hand up to cling to Comet’s wrist, holding him there. _Don’t leave, please._

“You staying, Chew?”

Chew? Who was he calling that? He got his answer when Wolffe walked to the other examination table. The door was closed - he must have closed it earlier when he was not looking. He had no idea why would anyone call Wolffe ‘Chew’. He felt compelled to ask.

Fang grinned. “I’ll tell you right when we’re done with your check-up, _vod’ika_. Wolffe doesn’t really like it when I make fun of him and if I’m knocked out, I can’t do my job, I hope you’ll understand.”

He nodded. And then, Fang reverted to what must be the professional setting. Comet was close, so it helped him remain calm. But the way Fang talked to him - quietly, without any rush - the way he asked him time and again if he was alright, and the cool, professional way in which he touched him, when it came to that, to checked if he could move alright - although he did say something about having to ask someone else - Paws - because it felt like his spine could use some help. It was not as bad as he had expected. However, when Fang asked him to remove his shirt and undershirt, he hesitated. It was not so much that he was afraid of Fang - after all, he was their medic, the other were trusting him - and they all looked the same or close to it. But he was not sure he wanted them to see the bruises. He had no checked but he knew they were there. He could feel each and every one of them. Some were older.

“Do you want us to leave, _vod’ika_?”

“No.” He looked up at Fang, who nodded at him reassuringly. He took off his clothes, the cooler air hitting his skin and making goosebumps break all over his skin. It took all his strength not to curl up to hide himself. He heard a loud, continuous growl, and he looked at Wolffe. And yes, Wolffe definitely was growling, but so was Fang. He heard Comet hiss behind him.

“Wolffe,” Fang’s voice was cold, calculating - it scared him. “Are the ones responsible very dead.”

“Dead as can be.” It came out as a growl, the words just audible.

Comet’s hand on his shoulder. Gentle, warm. “I’m sorry we weren’t there earlier, _vod’ika_.” And he could make out the anger, the spite in his tone.

“No one was there the other times.” He smiled, a bravado he was far from feeling. But he could do it. They were not at fault! “I survived. What happened was not your fault. And you found me.”

No one else spoke for a moment, but Fang resumed his work, and he did not try to minimize the pain when he felt it. He had a hunch that Fang would know if he did. He focused on the tattoo Fang had on his face. The details and structure of the bones rendered in minute details.

“That's quite a severe beating they gave you, _vod'ika._ "

He stared back at Fang, puzzled. "They just beat me?"

"Well, I wouldn't say 'just' because it's not exactly nothing. But from what I see, yes." Fang did not elaborate, but he seemed to be on the same wavelength, an impression confirmed by the nod Fang gave him. The medic went on: "I’ll get Paws to look at your right shoulder. It’s dislocated but seriously, considering the way you carry yourself, it’s not the first time. Did you feel any pain after they set it?”

He thought for a moment, trying to remember. “Yes. But I thought it was normal.”

Fang sighed, and shook his head. “It wasn’t. Not your fault. But basically, you’ll have to be careful after Paws set it. It’ll be more fragile.”

“Alright.”

“Good.” Fang stepped back to look at him in the face, and he sensed some hesitation in his stance. “I’m sorry that I have to do this, but I’ll need you to undress so I can check for any further damage. I won’t touch you any more than I have to, and if I hurt you or if you get uncomfortable, you have to tell me.”

He felt cold, all of a sudden. But he could do this. And he was safe. He was safe. And so he did - hissing in pain as he bent forward and his back screamed at him. He stood back, and let Fang check him. He would need bandages for his ankle, just to make sure it did not get worse. When Fang pressed on his left hip around an old bruise, he did his best not to baulk. Fang was safe.

“I reiterate. I actually do want to find all those who hurt you, and make sure they never ever are capable of hurting anyone.”

“It would be terrible, that we missed some.” The sarcasm was so heavy in Wolffe’s tone, it further emphasized the menace.

“Or Fox would launch a cleaning up session?”

“If he does and I’m not invited, well, he won’t tap that for a while.”

“Commander, not in front of the children!” Fang turned to Wolffe, frowning.

“I will destroy them. All of them. Break them until even Paws can’t sort out their skeletons.” That was Comet’s voice, but it had gone so cold, so deadly. He turned to look at him. Comet was… Comet was crying, but his jaw was set. He did not care if Fang did not want him to move - he reached out to put his palms on Comet’s cheeks, and put his forehead on his. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Thank you, _vod._ ” He wanted to tell Comet not to feel bad for him. But he did not know all about Comet’s own story. And he was not about to police his reactions either. He did not care that he was naked and standing. Did not care if it probably seemed pathetic. He did not care.

Comet nodded and leaned back after a moment, a serious look his face. “As long as I can do anything about it, no one will hurt you. Ever again. And I don’t care about the war we are fighting. You fought beyond that. So now, we’ll protect you.”

“And I’m grateful, I really am. I did not mean for this,” he gestured at his own body, “to upset you.”

“I’m not- it’s just… you deserved better.”

He sighed. “We all do, if you ask me. But we were not made to live like others were supposed to.”

“Boys, I don’t mean to interrupt the bleak explanation of our own purpose, but _vod’ika,_ you are still starkers and I don’t want you to catch a cold. So, shower, now, and then we treat what we can. And I’ll get Paws.”

He blushed, he felt it, the heat creeping up his neck and face. He breathed in slowly, exhaled, and turn to ask Fang where the shower was. Turned out it was one of the doors on the right-hand side, facing the entrance.

“You be okay, _vod’ika_?”

“Yes. Don’t worry.” He smiled, and it turned into a grin when Fang smiled back. He went to the bathroom, finding the light no problem. It was a new feeling. To walk in front of others without his clothes, and yet not feeling… sullied by it. But none of them had been staring at him in that way. Although he was fairly sure Wolffe could have burned holes in his skin, glaring at the bruises. He heard Comet saying he was going to fetch a change of clothes, and the door opened and closed.

He closed the door to the bathroom and stepped in the shower. The water that fell one him when he turned it on was not cold. It was tepid, and soon it grew warmer. Not too hot. But it felt nice. And he did not feel like changing the setting. If Fang had it this way, he probably had his reasons. Trust the medic. As he was running shampoo in his hair, he he heard a loud thumping sound - like someone punching a wall or something, the sound reverberating. And Fang’s voice rising to the point he could make out the words.

“I am as mad as you are, believe me. But don’t destroy my medbay.”

“I’ll kill them _all_!” He recognized Wolffe.

“You’ll have to find the- _stay where you are! You are not going on a mad goose chase when the kid needs you here! He’s my patient, his well-being is more important than breaking some chakaar's face!”_

He finished showering as fast as he could, while still being thorough. But he did not want Fang and Wolffe to get into an argument because of him. The voices had died down, and the door closed - before a soft rapping at the door was heard. He was just finishing drying himself, his hair still wet.

“Yes?”

“I got your stuff. You can come back when you’re ready.”

He wrapped a towel around his waist - and found out they were big enough that he did not need to hold it. Thank the little gods for small mercies. He got back out, and Fang motioned for him to hop up on the other examination table. He had bacta ointment in his hands.

“Paws will be there shortly. Until them, we’re going to take care of those nasty bruises you have. You also have two cracked ribs. We can’t do much about them, but we’ll check regularly to see how you heal.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, kid.”

He let Fang work, obeying his instructions as he applied bacta to the bruises, and then had him sit back on the table to bandage his foot. He observed Fang carefully, doing his best to commit the process to memory, in case he would have to do it himself. A soft knock carried in the overall silent room, and another _vod_ he had never seen before came in. Even by clones’ standards, he was tall, and broader than Fang. But he did not have that intimidating air the medic had. Instead, he greeted them, before he approached him.

“I heard we have a new recruit? Nice to meet you, _vod’ika_. I’m Paws - the other medic. The good one.”

“Paws, we aren’t playing good medic bad medic, please.”

“That sounded worse than it normally does.”

Fang slapped his hand on his forehead, apparently forgetting he had bacta on his finger, and smeared it on his face. “I hate you. Now, please. If you would make sure our _vod’ika_ here has a functional skeleton again…”

He tensed from where he was sitting. Setting bones had never been a painless experience. More often than not, it had made him feel even worse. Although he was fairly sure that most medics he had seen in his life were not used to humans. Or maybe they did not care? He did not doubt Paws was good. But he could not help the tension that was encroaching his entire body at the thought.

“Alright, kid. Scoot back a little bit more, so we don’t have you trying to melt from the table.”

He did as he was told, and heard someone - probably Paws - rubbing their hands.

“I’m going to start with your shoulder, before we get to your spine. I’m going to put my hands on your shoulders first.” Hands on his shoulders - warm and bigger than he had expected and he tensed. He breathed in deeply - Paws was safe, he was safe, he was safe. He could smell bacta again, so that might be what felt slightly wet on his skin.

Comet moved in front of him, and put his hand on his left knee, attracting his attention. He nodded at him encouragingly. Then he signed something and it took him a while to process. He remembered using that before being left on Coruscant. A single word. _Safe_ . He was so focused on Comet that he did not notice Paws’s hands moving. It did not hurt. More like a… massage of sorts. Nothing like the sort of grab and pull he had experienced. Was this really going to set his shoulder? Paws’s touch was careful, but firm, and he could feel the warmth spreading, sinking into his muscles. He felt more relaxed as a result, the tension slowly leaving his body.

It was the first time someone touched him with the intent to help and cure, rather than maim or- He stopped there, refusing to complete the thought. It occurred to him that unless they had brothers to help. They were born, bred, trained - all of it without touch. Without kindness. Without any of these little things that he had come to see as necessary. He slept better with the pack around. And people being kind to him… Chi’da, Silais, and his _vode_ , they were. Without any reason too - even Paws and Fang, whom he had never seen before.

“Let it out, _vod’ika_. It’ll do you good,” Paws said softly, as if he knew exactly what he was thinking. Even if that was impossible.

He cried, silent tears, and relief expanding his chest as he breathed, calmer now than he had been before. And still, Paws’s fingers and hands on him worked, and it felt so good - even the pain, it was not the bright, stabbing pain. It was the same as when he had been running for a long time, more like a pull. And every time the pressure stopped, relief flooded the area. Even if he was still crying, he felt like he was going to melt sooner or later. Then the pain grew - it felt like there was something else - the pressure intensifying and he for a moment, he wondered how long until it would be too much.

He felt a movement, and the pain immediately let up, intense relief washing over him, making him feel light-headed. Boneless, fuzzy and floating - sensations he knew to preclude passing out. He did not pass out, but he felt himself being handled carefully and laid down on the table. It was not cold. A blanket. He stayed like this for a moment, not quite knowing where he was or what was going on. He heard voices, hushed tones but familiar. His vision progressively cleared, and Paws was there, smiling, and Comet was there too. He saw Wolffe further down, talking to Fang quietly.

“How’re you feeling, _vod’ika_?” asked Paws.

“Is fuzzy acceptable?”

“Absolutely. We are going to get you on your stomach to keep the fuzziness going with your back, how does that sound?”

“Best idea ‘ver,” he slurred somewhat. Comet and Paws helped him sit and relocate on his stomach, avoiding putting his weight on his ‘brand new’ shoulder yet as he did. He settled easily, and let Paws direct him so that he would be comfortable enough during the process.

As soon as Paws began working his magic on his back, he was melting. Perhaps more than with his shoulder he could feel Paws working the tension from his muscles, starting from his shoulders and neck. He let himself lie completely limp as Paws worked. He could feel the knots under Paws’s hands, the pain building up, then relief blooming, warmth sinking deep into his body. He sighed contentedly, and closed his eyes, enjoying the care he was receiving, even if he was not sure whether or not he was supposed to. When Paws got further down his back, it felt like heaven. He was warm, and he would not have been able to move even if he had wanted to.  

What he had not quite expected was for this warmth to change as Paws moved down his back, under his kidneys. He still felt very comfortable, but there are more to it. He had no clue what it was precisely, but he wanted more. He made a small sound, but was not more articulate than that. It felt nice. He shifted, minutely, trying to get more of that delicious pressure on either side of his spine, and then Paws’s thumbs - it was marvelous. He sighed.

And noticed rather belatedly that it was not just warmth. He was aroused. Except he was too relaxed for the information to hit him in the face. With each passing second, he could feel himself hardening and… It just did not happen. It never happened in a situation that was not explicitly sexual - and even so, he could not remember when was the last time it happened. Maybe it never did. It felt good but he… got that urge to move, do something but he could not. If he had been alone, he would have dunked himself in cold water but right then, he could not. He tried to move - but the movement caused friction - and he froze, his breath caught in his throat.

Paws stopped and removed his hand. He was afraid he had done something wrong. Surely it was not done to feel anything when someone was trying to set your bones back in place. But he missed the touch, the warmth.

“Don’t move yet, _vod’ika_. I’m not done, but because setting a spine can take some time, I thought it would be best for you and I to catch a breather.” And then a warm, soft blanket was put on him, He did not open his eyes. It helped. Without Paws touching him, it was easier to concentrate and think about something else. Something that would calm him. Arousal was not something he had experienced, even if he recognized it - after all, he did some reading, and he heard people talking. And it could not be anything else - not fear, not pain, nothing like what he was used to. He might have dozed, because the next thing he knew was waking up to dimmed lights. Wolffe had left, Comet was sitting next to him, Fang and Paws playing chess on the other table. He must have made some noise, because Comet looked back at him and smiled.

“Back to us, _vod’ika_?”

He groaned some sort of assent, before carefully rolling to his side and sitting up, wrapped in the blanket. He yawned widely. He was comfortably and very snug in his blanket, but the examination table was not the most comfortable place.

“How’re you feeling?” asked Paws, as he walked over to them.

“Much,” he yawned again, “much better. Thank you.” He had no clue how Paws did it, but he never felt so light. Pain-free.

Paws smiled brightly. “My pleasure, kid.” He grew serious again. “I’ll need you to come back, maybe once a week from now, to keep working on your muscles. Your bones are all good but you tied yourself in a knot over time, so best to make sure you’re all good, heh?”

“Yes!” He caught himself, enthusiasm at being taken care of quickly quashed. “Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly, hoping Paws would not mind.

“Now, that’s the spirit.” Paws chuckled, before gesture to the clothes Comet had brought earlier. “We’re gonna let you change, and then you’re good to go. Maybe grab something to eat before you sleep, yes?”

“Will do!” He got up slowly, and waited for Fang and Paws to leave, after telling them to leave the ramp lights on when they leave, just in case, and wishing them a good night - which was more of a ‘get some rest, that’s an order’. 

On his way out, Fang stopped and looked back at him. "I promised I'd tell you so. I, and a few other people, call Wolffe chew because he just ends up chewing on anything within range. Like a toddler, always putting stuff in his mouth. One day he's going to chew a toxic plant and I'm waiting for that to happen to get back at him." Fang grinned, which softened the vague threat something. 

"Is he... okay with that?" Sure, 'Chew' was a funny nickname but for some reason, he was not sure it was Wolffe's idea. 

"Here's the beauty of it: I'm the medic. He doesn't have a choice. Good night, kids!" And with that, he left, closing the door behind him. 

They stayed like this, him and Comet, for a moment. He could not help but smile because it made sense. And he felt a bit bad for having thought Fang was this side of scary at first - or Wolffe, for that matter. At least they had a sense of humour. 

At length, Comet broke the silence. “I’ll wait for you outside. You just tell me when you’re ready.”

He nodded and waited for Comet to push the door closed. He appreciated Comet’s thoughtfulness - even if, well, they have all seen him practically naked already. He picked up the clothes, put them on the table before letting go of the blanket. He folded it carefully and did the same with the towel he was still wearing. His skin still tingle faintly from the memory of Paws’ hands setting his shoulder and spine. He dressed quickly, but was careful when putting on the shirt. He did not feel any pain or stiffness. Guess he would never have realized just how limited his movement range was until he could move normally again. He put on the shoes last, appreciating that he was fully insulated from the cold floor again. He picked the towel, check for the hamper chute, and put it there. No use leaving it for Fang or Paws to have to deal with. He then went to the door and opened it slowly, not wanting to startle Comet.

“All set?” He nodded, and Comet looked at him, checking for any sign of discomfort. “Let me get the lights and we can go.”

On the way back, he reached for Comet’s hand, barely touched it before letting go. Comet stopped and asked him what was wrong.

“I just… I’m not sure it’s appropriate. I don’t want you to get into trouble.” He looked down, his earlier light-heartedness somewhat dampened. Until Comet took his hand in his own, making him glance back at him.

“It’s fine. You can, here.” He seemed on the verge of saying something. “I’m glad that you reach for me, actually. Because, I like it. But I don’t want to reach for you first.”

“You don’t want to…” He tried to think of a word. “You don’t want to scare me?”

“Something like that, yes.”

He pulled on Comet’s hand to bring him closer, and hugged him. “You won’t scare me, Comet. And it helps. And I-” he swallowed thickly, emotions roiling in him, “I can’t tell you what it means to me, that you thought about this. But I promise, it helps.” He then felt Comet’s arms wrapping loosely behind his back and he was safe. Warm. Like home.

“And I’m grateful for your trust, _vod’ika._ ”

They staying like this for a moment, before someone’s stomach growled - though they would both deny it was theirs. But they had to get food. And so they resumed walking, this time holding hands. It felt still safe.

“Would you like to eat in the mess? Or back at the pack’s?”

“Is that okay if we… stay with the pack?” He was not sure he was ready for big spaces or too many people for that matter. He felt incredibly better, without a doubt, but he was tired.

“Perfectly okay. I’ll just ask them if someone can bring some food back. Anything you don’t like?”

He thought for a moment. “I honestly don’t know. I eat pretty much anything.” He smiled, albeit shyly. The only thing he did not eat was whatever was in Silais’s plate, because it put his mouth on fire. He told Comet that, and he was pleased that it made him smile too.

“He likes spicy food?”

“He’s a great cook! But yes, spicy food. Sometimes, even Chi’da doesn’t follow. It smells great, though. And he makes milder portions for me.” He was going to miss them.

“We can go and see them tomorrow, if you want? Together.”

He stared at Comet, not quite believing his ears. “You’d do that?”

“They are your friends, _vod’ika_ , Of course I will!”

He thanked Comet, and they slowly made their way back to the barracks.It felt familiar, perhaps because there were brothers everywhere. However, back at the ‘lair’, he realized it was quite different from what he could have thought of. An entire side of room - actually, the biggest part of it, was taken by big mattresses all jammed together. They looked thicker than what he had seen before. He stared at them, and it took him a moment to realize the bed-frames had been removed.

“Wolffe managed to convince the general that beds were not necessary, and when he learned how we slept, he managed to provide us with bigger and sturdier mattresses. Although I think Paws was the decisive factor here. If you sleep on the ground too much, your back is a mess, as he says.”

“That sounds about right.” There were blankets everywhere, and even fluffier beddings that he was pretty sure were not standard-issued. And pillows. Footsteps behind them and he turned to see Sinker and Boost coming up, carrying food and bottles.

“Room service, kids.” Boost announced cheerfully. “Good to see you among us again, _vod’ika_.”

“Wolffe told us Paws set your bones back?”

“Yes. It was… I don’t know how to say. Amazing seems not enough.”

Sinker nodded. “The man has magical hands.”

They fell into easy conversation, even if he did not really partake. Wolffe would join them after he was done with paperwork, and he would not eat with them. But there was a nice holo-documentary on asteroids and comets. And apparently, everytime something featured comets, they had to watch.

“Just be prepared for an hour of terrible puns.”

“I thought the puns would happen all day?” He had spoken without thinking, and apologized immediately.

“No no no, _vod’ika_ , that was good!” Boost grinned at him, before passing him a bottle of water. “And you’re right. Never tire of make stupid puns about comets.”

“And their tails- ouch! What was that for?” Sinker rubbed the back of his head where Comet had hit him.

“You are not allowed to make that joke again today. If the word ‘tail’ escape your mouth again, I will make sure to warm my feet on your stomach.”

“You little shit.” Sinker grinned widely.

It was nice, to see them interact so freely, and sometimes asking him questions, obviously eager to have him participate, and he did. It was much easier than he had anticipated.

When Wolffe came back, they all settled to watch the holo, and he found himself with his head tucked on Comet’s shoulder, Wolffe on his other side. He had to say it was a bit strange to watch a holo on the ceiling, but being able to watch something while lying down was quite pleasant. They got to an analysis of a comet, and yes, Sinker did snicker at the mention of tails - although it sounded more like a joke than anything else. Then it started on the coma, and it was an enveloped around the nucleus of a comet, a gathering of ice and dust that formed when the comet got close to a star, making it look fuzzy.

And maybe it was tiredness, but he heard himself say that it was very much like him right now - clinging to Comet and feeling really fuzzy and warm. Comet stroked his hair, and whispered softly that, “well, that might be your name from now on, _vod’ika._ ”

“Coma?” He asked, in hushed tones, not wishing to disturb the others as the holo went on.

“Yes.”

“I like it.” He honestly did. It sounded nice. But very close to Comet. Not that he minded much but… “Maybe write it with a ‘k’... To make things easier. Or more complicated… I don’t know.”

“Koma it is.” Comet kissed his hair, softly. “You’re stuck with me now, Koma.”

“Good. That’s the plan, Comet.” He did not speak again, but as he was dozing, he felt that same warm feeling that had been blooming in his chest again and again every since he had met them. He was not alone. He was cared for. And now, he had a name. He was a person, again.

  
  
  



End file.
